THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


3^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/fishingtouristanOOhallrich 


ON   THE  RESTIGOUCHE. 


THE 


Fishing  Tourist 


4NGLER^S  GUIDE  pD  REFERENCE  BOOK. 


BY 
CHARLES    HALLOCK, 

SECRET  ART  OF  THE   "BLOOMING  GROVE  PARK  ASSOCIATION. 


•As  flies  to  wanton  boys,  are  we  to  the  gods; 
They  kill  us  for  their  sport."— Shak. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,   FRANKLIN   SQUARE. 

1873. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 
In  tlie  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


iZi^fne^ 


KING    OF    GAME-FISH 


^€^^iyca^e>cc  -^^  ^^  ^^  ^vw-^-/^ 


'ed€-  ^lu  /i.^t-ed  1^^  4edA€-'C^fu^uu- z^ 


a^iyne^. 


PREFATORY. 


I  HAVE  been  frequently  requested  to  collate  my  various 
sketches  of  travel  and  adventure  which  have  appeared 
from  time  to  time  in  Harper's  Magazine,  and  publish  them  in 
book  form  for  the  information  of  sportsmen.  But,  as  these 
cover  a  period  of  seventeen  years,  and  much  of  the  material 
has  passed  out  of  date,  I  have  thought  it  better  to  issue  a 
work  more  comprehensive,  to  serve  as  a  sort  of  Seference 
Book  for  Anglers  and  Tourists. 

This  volume  presents  in  a  concise  form  all  the  informa- 
tion necessary  to  enable  gentlemen  to  visit  successfully  every 
accessible  salmon  and  trout  region  of  America ;  though  of 
course  it  has  not  attempted  to  specify  each  neighborhood 
locality.  Observation  is  confined  exclusively  to  the  8almo 
family,  because  I  regard  them  as  the  only  fresh-water  fish, 
excepting  the  black  bass,  worthy  the  name  of  game-fish — the 
earnest  pursuit  whereof  leads  where  much  substantial  infor- 
mation can  be  gathered,  with  benefit  to  mind  and  body. 

Since  the  ancient  days  of  Pliny  and  Ansonius,  the  "trout 
in  speckled  pride  "  has  been  the  undying  theme  of  pastoral 
poets  and  sentimental  anglers ;  and  a  fulsome  rhapsody  here 
would  only  pale  before  the  light  of  their  diviner  fires.  Ped- 
ants in  piscatory  lore  have  so  often  classified  the  8dlmo 
family,  and  described  their  characteristics  and  minutest 
points  of  difference,  that  I  assume  the  scientific  world  is  sat- 
isfied that  nothing  remains  to  be  said  on  that  head ;  hence  I 
offer  no  supplementary  essay.      Fly-fishing  as  a  fine  art  has 


YUl  PEEFATOEY. 

been  expatiated  upon  till  it  has  become  a  worn-out  leaf  in 
books.  I  forbear  to  delegate  myself  instructor  in  a  branch  of 
study  which  can  be  thoroughly  mastered  only  by  diligent  and 
intelligent  practice.  As  for  the  "  beauties  of  nature"  which 
environ  the  haunts  of  the  angler  and  so  infallibly  inspire  the 
author's  pen,  are  they  not  painted  on  the  clouds,  written  on 
the  leaves,  and  limned  in  rainbow  tints  upon  the  dashing 
streams  ?  It  is  evident  that  any  effort  of  mine  in  this  direc- 
tion, however  ambitious,  has  been  anticipated.  Neither  will  I 
attempt  to  rival  the  retailers  of  big  fish  stories.  The  field  is 
already  fallow.  My  province  is  simply  to  write  an  Angler's 
Guide  without  embellishment ;  to  tell  where  fish  are  to  be 
caught,  and  when,  and  how;  to  show  the  sportsman  the 
shortest  routes  to  pleasure,  the  best  means  of  conveyance,  the 
.expense  thereof,  and  the  secrets  of  the  commissariat. 

With  a  few  notable  exceptions,  our  sporting  literature  is 
composed  of  technical  scientific  treatises  on  fish  and  fish- 
hooks, which  may  possibly  interest  a  club  of  veteran  anglers, 
but  which  only  bore  and  mystify  the  general  reader ;  or  else 
the  books  are  mere  recitals  of  personal  exploits,  supplemented 
by  sentimental  apostrophes  to  nature,  and  rounded  off  with 
high-flown  periods.  What  does  it  matter  to  the  neophyte, 
or  what  does  the  casual  reader  care,  whether  an  artificial  fly 
is  whipped  with  the  real  yellow  mohair,  or  with  the  rayed 
feathers  of  the  mallard  dyed  yellow  ?  What  do  they  know 
of  the  mechanism  of  rods  and  reels  ?  How  can  we  stir 
enthusiasm  in  hearth-rug  knights,  or  instil  into  their  compo- 
sition a  love  for  field  sports  by  confusing  their  minds  with  ich- 
thyological  abstractions  ?  Why  daze  the  novice  by  turning 
all  at  once  upon  his  unaccustomed  eyes  the  full  effulgence 
of  the  Sportsman's  Paradise  ?  A  service  more  meritorious 
and  long  needed,  would  be  to  furnish  some  plain,  wholesome 
fare  of  wise  instruction,  comprehensible  to  common  minds ; 
some  healthy  and  vigorous  photographs  of  real  life,  which 
will  assert  their  truthfulness  by  instantly  reviving  kindred 
experiences  of  days  gone  by ;  with  a  judicious  touch  of  light 
and  shade  in  the  coloring  that  shall  make  the  profession  and 


PKEFATORY.  IX 

field  attractive  and  not  discouraging  by  a  pedantic  display 
of  its  mysterious  paraphernalia. 

A  taste  for  out-of-door  sports  must  be  nurtured  carefully. 
Its  growth  cannot  be  forced.  Gradually  and  completely 
can  we  wean  our  families  from  the  dissipation,  late  hours, 
and  unhealthy  conventionalisms  of  fashionable  watering- 
places.  By  degrees,  we  shall  teach  our  wives  and  daughters 
to  participate  in  the  favorite  pastimes  of  their  husbands  and 
sons  ;  for  do  they  not  always  take  a  warm  interest  in  any- 
thing that  affects  us  ?  Do  they  not  sympathize  with  our 
views  and  plans,  and  mould  their  tastes  to  ours  ?  Why, 
then,  should  not  a  sporting  literature  be  provided  which  our 
women  may  read  with  pleasure,  and  our  children  with  profit  ? 
More  suitable  or  healthy  fight  reading  could  not  be  put  into 
their  hands  for  perusal  in  the  summer  days. 

'Not  vain  enough  to  ^uppose  that  the  material  of  these 
pages  meets  this  requisition,  nor  intending  to  write  a  book 
upon  such  a  model,  I  nevertheless  indulge  the  belief  that  it 
answers  in  many  essentials  the  public  demand,  and  that  a 
cordial  welcome  will  be  extended  to  the  Fishin^g  Tourist. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

New  York,  February  1, 1873. 


CONTENTS. 


P  AE  T      I. 

PAGE 

Early  Lessons — Fly-fishing  as  a  Fine  Art — Trout  and  Salmon- 
fishing  compared— Game-fish — The  Salmo  Family — Natural 
History  of  the  Salmon — Ascending  the  River  to  Spawn — Trout 
and  Trout-rods — The  Outfit — The  Sportsman 15 — 54 


PART      II. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — Long  Island 57 

II.— The  Adirondacks 67 

IIL— The  AUeghanies 80 

IV.— New  England 89 

v.— The  Schoodics 100 

VI. — Nova  Scotia Ill 

VII.— Cape  Breton 131 

Vni.— New  Brunswick 134 

IX. — Bale  des  Gialeurs 149 


Xll  COl^TEi^TS. 

CHAPTER  p^QE 

X. — The  Lower  St.  Lawrence 160 

XL — The  Saguenay 170 

XII. — Labrador  and  Newfoundland 190 

XIII.*— Anticosti I33 

XIV.— The  Ottawa  District '    igg 

XV. — The  Superior  Region 198 

XVI.— The  Michigan  Peninsula 306 

XVII.— The  "  Big  Woods" 210 

XVIII. —The  Pacific  Slope ; 217 

XIX.— Blooming  Grove  Park 224 

XX. — Natural  and  Artificial  Propagation 230 


ilmgtil 


BalmOy  a  salmon,  probably  from  salio,  to  leap." — Lexicon. 


ND  why  not  "  probably  ?"  Is  not  the  leap  the  nota- 
ble characteristic  of  the  whole  Salmo  family?  Is 
it  not  the  marvelous  leap  over  the  counterscarp  of 
dashing  falls,  and  that  more  desperate  leap  taken 
at  full  tension  of  lengthened  line  and  straining  rod, 
marks  the  courage  and  nervous  strength  of  the 
salmon  ?  Is  it  not  the  leap  at  eventide,  out  from  the  depths 
of  shadowy  pools,  that  baptizes  him  with  showers  of  glitter- 
ing spray  the  embodiment  of  grace  and  beauty  ? 

"  For  often  at  night,  in  a  sportive  mood. 
He  comes  to  the  brim  of  the  moonlit  flood, 
And  tosses  in  air  a  curve  aloft. 
Like  the  silvery  bow  of  the  gods,  then  soft 
He  plashes  deliciously  back  in  the  spray. 
While  tremulous  circles  go  spreading  away." 

Answer  thine  own  heart's  impulse,  oh,  enthusiastic  devo- 
tee to  sports  of  forest  and  stream !  Does  it  not  quicken  the 
pulse  and  thrill  the  nerves,  and  make  thine  own  heart  leai) 
too,  in  magnetic  sympathy,  to  see,  aye,  even  to  remember, 
those  magnificent  leaps  of  the  wonderful    salmon?     And 


16  SALMO]NriD^. 

wherever  the  sahnon  or  the  trout  disports  himself,  there 
Nature  Hkewise  hfts  up  her  voice  and  her  hands  in  joyful 
harmony  and  accord.  The  leaves  dance  to  their  own  whis- 
pered cadences ;  the  cascade  leaps  to  the  music  of  its  fall ; 
hirds  and  insects  take  frequent  wing;  and  the  bounding 
deer  snuffs  the  air,  vital  and  laden  with  woodland  perfumes. 
Surely  it  is  the  leap  that  designates  the  salmon.  Let  us, 
therefore,  accord  to  him  and  all  his  royal  family  that  he- 
raldic device  and  motto  which  justly  belong  to  their  noble 
hne,  and  which  have  ever  been  recognized  where  Nature  has 
held  her  court — Salmo  the  Leaper  ! 

Just  here,  upon  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion  and  the 
theme,  it  would  be  natural  to  give  my  pen  an  impromptu 
flourish,  and  describing  a  graceful  parabola  over  my  shoul- 
der, secundem  artem,  drop  my  line  deftly  into  the  swift  cur- 
rent of  my  subject,  just  where  that  salmon  splashed  but  now. 
I  forbear  only  through  fear  of  personal  criticism  from  some 
old  sportsman  whose  hair  is  more  gray  than  mine.  Ye?'  as- 
suredly a  quarter  of  a  century  devoted  to  study  of  the  gentle 
art  should  exempt  me  from  a  charge  of  presumption  in  at- 
tempting to  instruct,  or  of  egoism  in  simply  narrating  some 
portion  of  manifold  personal  experiences,  quorum  pars  fui. 

It  is  now  twenty-six  years  since  I  cast  my  first  fly  among 
the  green  hills  of  Hampshire  county,  Massachusetts.  I  was 
a  stripling  then,  tall  and  active,  with  my  young  blood  bound- 
ing through  every  vein,  and  reveling  in  the  full  promise  of 
a  hardy  manhood.  My  whole  time  was  passed  out  of  doors. 
I  scorned  a  bed  in  the  summer  months.  My  home  was  a 
tree-embowered  shanty  apart  from  the  farm-house,  and 
crowning  a  knoll  around  whose  base  wound  and  tumbled  a 
most  delectable  trout-brook.  Here  was  the  primary  school 
where  I  learned  the  first  rudiments  of  a  sportsman's  educa- 
tion. In  time  I  came  to  know  every  woodchuck  hole  in  the 
township,  and  almost  every  red  squirrel  and  chipmunk  by 
sight;  every  log  where  an  old  cock-partridge  drummed; 
every  crow's  nest,  and  every  hollow  tree  where  a  coon  hid 


SALMONID^.  17 

away.  I  heard  Bob  White  whistle  to  his  mate  in  June,  and 
knew  where  to  find  his  family  when  the  young  brood  hatched 
out.  I  had  pets  of  all  kinds:  tame  squirrels,  and  crows, 
hawks,  owls  and  coons.  All  the  live-stock  on  the  farm  were 
my  friends.  I  rode  the  cows  from  pasture,  drove  a  cosset 
four-in-hand,  Jumped  the  donkey  off  the  bridge  to  the  detri- 
ment of  both  our  necks,  and  even  trained  a  heifer  so  that  I 
could  fire  my  shot-gun  at  rest  between  her  budding  horns. 
I  learned  where  to  gather  all  the  berries,  roots,  barks,  and 
"  yarbs  "  that  grew  in  the  woods ;  and  so  unconsciously  be- 
came a  naturalist  and  an  earnest  student  of  botany.  As  to 
fishing,  it  was  my  passion.  There  were  great  lakes  that  re- 
posed in  the  solitude  of  the  woods,  at  w^hose  outlets  the  hum 
and  buzz  of  busy  saw-mills  w^ere  heard,  and  whose  waters 
were  filled  with  pickerel :  and,  most  glorious  of  all,  there 
were  mountain  streams,  foaming,  purling,  eddying  and  rip- 
pling with  a  life  and  a  dash  and  a  joyousness  that  made  our 
lives  merry,  and  filled  our  hearts  to'  overflowing  with  pleas- 
ure. 

Fly-fishing  was  in  its  infancy  then.  It  w^as  an  art  scarcely 
known  in  America  and  but  little  practised  in  England.  The 
progressive  school  of  old  Isaak  and  Kit  North  had  but  few 
graduates  with  honor.  We  boys,  my  cousin  and  I,  had  little 
conception  of  the  curious  devices  of  feathers  and  tinsel  which 
we  afterwards  learned  to  use ;  and  to  the  angling  fraternity 
the  artifices  of  Thomdyke,  Stickler  and  Bethune  were  as 
mysterious  as  the  occult  sciences  themselves.  We  used  sim- 
ply a  wattle  and  a  worm,  and  whipped  the  trout  out  by  hun- 
dreds ;  for  the  streams  fairly  teemed  with  them.  And  it  re- 
quired some  little  skill  to  do  it,  too — much  knowledge  of  the 
haunts  of  the  speckled  beauties,  much  caution  in  creeping 
up  to  the  more  exposed  pools,  where  a  passing  shadow  would 
have  dashed  our  hopes  in  an  instant ;  and  no  little  dexterity 
in  dropping  the  bait  quietly  out  of  sight  under  the  bank, 
where  we  knew  a  wary  trout  was  lurking.  What  a  thrill 
there  was  when  the  expected  tug  came !  and  when  w^e  had 
2 


18  SALMOJS'ID^.. 

him  hooked,  we  pulled  him  out  vi  et  armis.  No  time  for 
grace  or  parley.  It  was  purely  a  test  of  strength  hetween 
tackle  and  giUs.  We  did  not  understand  "  playing  a  trout." 
And  yet  we  were  the  best  anglers  in  the  yillage.  No  boys 
could  hold  a  candle  to  us.  We  caught  bigger  fish  and  more 
of  them.  We  knew  every  good  place  in  the  stream.  There 
was  the  old  log  just  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  the  big  hole 
where  we  used  to  bathe,  the  bridge  that  crossed  the  road,  the 
rocky  ledge  at  the  pond  where  there  was  a  little  mill,  the 
crossing-log  in  the  ten-acre  pasture,  the  eddy  at  the  lower 
falls,  and  so  on  from  point  to  point,  through  devious  wind- 
ings and  turnings,  away  down  stream  three  miles  or  more  to 
the  grist-mill — the  same  which  the  old  "  Mountain  Miller '' 
used  to  "  tend "  in  days  gone  by. 

Ah  !  those  were  halcyon  days.  No  railroads  disturbed  the 
quiet  seclusion  of  that  mountain  nook.  The  scream  of  the 
locomotive  was  not  heard  within  twenty-four  miles  of  it. 
Twice  a  week  an  old-fashioned  coach  dragged  heavily  up  the 
hill  into  the  hamlet  and  halted  in  front  of  the  house  which 
was  at  once  post-office,  tavern,  and  miscellaneous  store — an 
" omnium  gatherum"  as  our  friend  Ives  had  it  in  our  college 
days  at  Yale.  One  day  it  brought  a  passenger.  A  well-knit, 
wiry  frame  he  had,  and  features  stolid  and  denoting  energy 
and  kindred  qualities.  He  carried  a  leather  hand-bag  and  a 
handful  of  rods  in  a  case.  The  village  quidnuncs  said  he 
was  a  surveyor.  He  allowed  he  was  from  Troy  and  had 
"  come  to  go  a-fishing."  From  that  stranger  I  took  my  first 
lesson  in  fly-fishing. 

As  he  stood  upon  the  tavern-steps  he  gazed  across  the  bar- 
ren waste  of  ground. to  the  meeting-house  opposite — the  same 
meeting-house  where  my  revered  grandfather  ministered  with 
grace  for  forty  years — a  meeting-house  quaint  and  ancient, 
rooster-crowned,  with  its  horse-block  and  horse-sheds  at 
hand,  and  its  square  peWs  inside,  its  lofty  galleries  and  pul- 
pit, its  deacon-seats  and  its  sounding-board,  long  since  things 
of  the  past.    He  gazed  and  seemed  to  meditate,  then* shook 


SALMONIDJE.  19 

his.  head  and  remarked,  "  To-morrow  will  be  Sunday.  I  shall 
have  to  wait  till  the  following  day.  Sonny,  can  you  tell  me 
if  there  is  any  trout-fishing  about  here  ?  "  Trout-fishing !  to 
me  there  was  magic  in  the  sound.  Of  course  my  Sunday- 
school  lesson  lapsed  next  day.  Appetite  deserted  me — I  even 
refused  the  golden  gingerbread  that  my  aunt  supplied  at  noon 
from"  the  family  lunch-basket.  But  you  should  have  seen 
that  stranger  fish  on  Monday !  It  was  not  that  he  took  so 
very  many  fish,  but  the  way  in  which  he  did  it.  In  the  first 
place  his  rod  was  so  constructed  in  different  pieces  that  he 
could  joint  it  together,  and  it  was  nicely  varnished  too,  and 
stiffer  and  more  supple  than  our  long  hickory  poles.  I  did 
not  see  what  kind  of  bait  he  used — I  didn^t  see  him  use  any — 
but  he  gave  a  flourish  of  his  arm,  and  tossed  his  line  every 
time,  far,  far  beyond  the  most  ambitious  attempts  of  ours ; 
and  nearly  every  time  a  fish  took  his  hook.  Big  fellows  they 
were,  too,  I  can  tell  you.  We  always  knew  they  were  out 
there  in  that  deep  water  under  the  alders,  for  we  had  seen 
them  break  there,  often.  We  never  tried  to  fish  there ;  we 
could  not  reach  them  from  this  side,  and  upon  the  other  the 
bushes  were  so  thick  it  was  useless  to  attempt  it.  All  day 
long,  while  fishing  with  him,  I  employed  my  nicest  art.  I 
took  only  a  few  big  ones — any  dozen  of  his  would  have  out- 
weighed my  whole  string.  It  aggravated  me  awfully.  He 
said  I  was  an  excellent  lait  fisher,  but  thought  I  would  learn 
to  prefer  a  fly.  Before  he  went  away  he  gave  me  some 
instructions  and  a  few  flies.  Since  then  I  have  always  used 
a  fly,  except  in  certain  contingencies. 

II. 

Some  gentlemen,  by  no  means  pretentious  or  opinionated, 
dehght  to  assert  that  since  they  became  recognized  anglers 
they  have  never  taken  a  trout  or  a  salmon  except  with  a 
fly.  I  doff  my  hat  in  reverence  to  the  sentiment ;  it  is 
the  honest  utterance  of  a  justifiable  pride.     It  is  the  spirit 


20  SALMOl!^ID^. 

of  the  sangre  azul,  which  dignifies  the  cultivated  sports- 
man above  the  mere  fisherman ;  the  man  of  honor  above 
the  assassin,  the  Herod  among  the  small  irj,  the  filler  of 
pots  and  defier  of  close  seasons.  Nevertheless,  I  cannot  ad- 
mit the  implication  that  the  man  who  habitually  uses  bait 
is  consequently  a  creel-stuffer,  or  deficient  in  the  scientific 
accomplishments  of  the  craft.  Fly-fishing  and  bait-fishing 
are  co-ordinate  branches  of  the  same  study,  and 'each  must 
be  thoroughly  learned  to  qualify  the  aspirant  to  honors  for 
the  subhme  degree  of  Master  of  the  Art. 

Grant  that  fly-fishing  transcendently  illustrates  the  poetry 
of  the  gentle  calling :  is  it  becoming  or  wise  to  despise  the 
sterner  prosBy  the  metaphysics  of  the  more  practical  school  ? 
The  most  dazzhng  accomplishment,  that  one  which  most 
enhances  individual  charms,  is  not  necessarily  of  the  great- 
est practical  or  substantial  worth.  Each  method  of  fishing 
has  its  advantages ;  one  may  be  made  available  where  the 
other  is  wholly  impracticable.  The  deftly-tossed  fly,  taking 
wing  on  the  nerve  of  a  masterly  cast,  will  drop  gracefully  far 
out  in  the  stream  where  the  heavier  gear  of  the  bait  rod 
would  never  aspire  to  reach.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bait 
must  supersede  the  fly  on  densely  overgrown  streams,  and 
wherever  the  locality  precludes  proper  casting-room.  More- 
over fish  do  not  always  prefer  the  same  diet.  They  have 
their  times  to  eat  and  their  choice  of  food,  whether  red 
worms,  small  fry,  maggots,  or  flies.  They  will  take  bait  when 
they  will  not  rise  to  a  fly.  The  red  worm  is  notoriously  the 
most  acceptable  food  of  the  lordly  salmon.  The  Salmo  fam- 
ily do  not  feed  upon  insects  and  flies  :  they  make  no  hearty 
meal  of  such.  These  are  merely  the  souffles  and  whipped 
syllabub  of  their  taUe  d^hote — their  superficial  dessert,  which 
they  gracefully  rise  to  accept.  Has  it  become  the  law  of 
Piscator  that  professional  anglers  shall  pander  to  the  pam- 
pered epicure  alone  ?  that  they  shall  never  tempt  the  trout  or 
salmon  except  when  in  his  most  fastidious  mood  ?  I  might 
even  strain  a  pomt  in  fav6r  of  the  bait-fisher,  and  hoW  that, 


SALMOi^ID^.  21 

inasmuch  as  fishes,  hke  men,  have  their  five  senses,  and  since 
in  fly-fishing  the  sense  of  sight  alone  is  tested,  such  kind  of 
angling  is  a  mean  imposition  upon  the  creatures'  credulity, 
and  not  fair  play  at  all. 

I  utter  no  plea  for  the  hait-fisher  who  angles  stolidly  from 
boat  or  stump ;  there  is  neither  sport  nor  science  nor  sense 
in  his  method.  But  to  the  man  who  can  handle  his  rod 
properly  and  with  successful  result  in  an  impetuous  river  or 
tumbling  mountain  stream  (I  care  not  whether  he  uses  fly 
or  bait),  I  must  in  justice  concede  a  claim  to  high  rank  in 
the  angling  fraternity.  A  thorough  knowledge  of  the  habits 
of  the  fish  is  requisite  in  either  case;  and  without  that 
knowledge  which  the  practiced  bait-fisher  must  acquire  of 
their  haunts  and  breeding-places,  their,  exits  and  their 
entrances,  their  food  and  times  for  feeding,  and  the  seasons 
when  they  are  in  condition,  no  man  can  be  regarded  a  per- 
fect angler,  no  matter  whether  he  handle  his  fly  with  the 
skill  of  Arachne  herself.     (Joke  intended.) 

Exhausted  with  my  attempt  to  legitimate  the  habitual 
bait-fisher  into  the  family  of  sportsmen  (for  which  he  will 
doubtless  thank  me),  I  am  fain  to  assert  that  the  acquisition 
of  the  artificial  fly  to  the  angler's  portfolio  has  measurably 
increased  the  charms  of  his  sport.  Fly-fishing  gives  more 
varied  play  and  greater  exercise  to  the  muscles ;  it  bestows  a 
keener  excitement ;  it  intensifies  the  perceptive  faculties ;  it 
requires  nicer  judgment  than  bait-fishing,  quicker  and  more 
delicate  manipulation,  and  ,^reater  promptness  in  emergen- 
cies ;  it  is  more  humanizing  in  its  influences ;  it  is  beautiful 
in  its  associations,  and  poetic  in  the  fancies  it  begets.  Light 
as  a  thistle's  down  the  little  waif  of  a  fly  flits  hither  and  yon, 
dancing  upon  the  ripples,  coursing  over  the  foam,  breasting 
the  impetuous  current,  leaving  its  tiny  trail  where  the  sur- 
face is  smoothest,  but  always  glancing,  gleaming,  coquetting 
like  the  eye  of  a  maiden,  and  as  fatally  ensnaring.  It  woos 
no  groundlings;  it  is  not  *^ of  the  earth  earthy";   it  is  all 


22  SALMONID^. 

ethereal,  vitalizing,  elevating.      There  is  nothing  groveling 
in  fly-fishing — nothing  gross  or  demoralizing. 

But  bait-fishing  2  AVell — ^it  is  cruel  to  impale  a  minnow 
or  a  frog.  It  is  vulgar  and  revolting  to  thread  a  worm. 
Worms !  bah !  let  them  go  to  the  bottom.  I  drop  my  hne 
just  here.  I  have  gained  a  temporary  vantage  for  my  bait- 
fishing  friend.  If  he  loses  the  campaign,  he  deserves  to  be 
beaten  with  his  own  rod.  For  myself,  'I  boldly  avow  an  un- 
(^ualified  preference  for  the  fly  in  all  cases  where  its  use  is 
practicable.  I  have  said  as  much  already.  Let  it  be  re- 
corded. 

III. 

Upon  one  other  point  I  shall  make  issue  with  these  ang- 
lers par  excellence — this  select  coterie  of  soi-disant  profes- 
sionals ;  not  because  they  are  not  really  the  experts  they  as- 
sume to  be,  but  because  of  the  very  complacent  manner  in 
which  they  fold  their  arms  upon  the  tip-top  pinnacle  of 
cumulative  knowledge,  and  superciliously  look  down  upon 
their  fellow-crafts  below.  These  eminent  gentry  affect  to 
despise  trout-fishing.  "Oh!"  they  say,  "we  never  trouble 
such  small  game.  We've  got  past  that  sort  of  thing.  All  very 
well  for  those  who  have  never  had  a  hack  at  a  salmon — very 
decent  sort  of  sport,  you  know:  but  as  for  us,  we  couldn't 
look  at  a  trout  when  salmon  are  running." 

"But,  sir,  consider — " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  it's  no  use  talking,  you  never  can  have 
an  idea  of  real  genuine  sport  until  you  get  hung  of  a  forty- 
pound  salmon!" 

Such  positive  assurances,  coming  from  such  high  author- 
ity, ought  to  be  convincing  and  conclusive.  Sir  Oracle's 
estimate  of  sport  is  evidently  as  between  a  half-pound  trout 
and  a  forty-pound  salmon,  all  other  conditions  being  equal. 

Now,  in  truth,  the  quality  of  sport  is  in  the  ratio  of  the 
delicacy  of  the  tackle  to  the  strength  and  play  of  the  fish. 


SALMOmD^.  23 

A  four-pound  trout  on  an  8-oz.  rod  is  equal  to  a  sixteen- 
pound  salmon  on  a  32-oz.  rod.  "  But/'  nrges  the  salmon- 
fisher,  "  the  nobler  the  game  the  nobler  the  sport."  Granted, 
provided  the  relative  conditions  are  maintained — not  other- 
wise. K  forty-pound  salmon  are  to  be  hauled  in  hand  over 
hand  on  a  cod  line,  or  if  whitling  trout  are  to  be  whipped 
out  on  a  twenty-feet  salmon  rod — if  size  and  weight  alone  are 
to  determine  the  quality  of  the  sport,  and  the  value  of 
the  captive  as  a  game  fish,  why,  one  might  as  well  troll  for 
Mackinaw  trout,  or  drag  the  East  Kiver  for  dead  bodies.  I 
have  had  moretpositive,  continuous  enjoyment  with  a  three- 
pound  trout  on  a  one-handed  Andrew  Gierke  split  bamboo 
(I  never  drop  a  fly  from  any  other  rod)  than  I  e:s^perienced 
from  the  biggest  salmon  I  ever  took  in  the  Eestigouche.  It 
was  in  the  East  Eiver,  near  Chester,  Nova  Scotiif.  But  espe- 
cially shall  I  remember  the  chase  a  lively  grilse  led  me  on 
that  self-same  day.  The  larger  salmon  had  stopped  running 
for  the  season,  and  the  chances  were  so  small  of  taking  on 
my  delicate  trouting  tackle  any  description  of  fish  other 
than  the  trout  I  angled  for,  that  I  felt  httle  risk  in  casting 
my  line  over  the  waters  where  salmon  would  be  likely  to  lie. 
I  had  just  recuperated  from  my  laborious  contest  with  the 
big  trout ;  and  when  the  grilse  struck  the  hook  smartly,  I 
had  reason  to  believe  that  I  had  my  trout's  big  brother  in 
hand.  But  I  was  undeceived  "in  a  jifly."  The  instant  the 
fellow  felt  himself  hooked,  he  shot  up  a  rapid  with  my  whole 
seventy-five  feet  of  line,  and  when  he  was  snubbed  leaped  a 
boulder  three  feet  high,  and  ran  back  again  to  the  pool  he 
started  from,  where  he  stopped  to  consider  the  situation. 
Doubtless  he  felt  it  to  be  ridiculous.  I  certainly  so  regarded 
my  own  position.  I  was  standing  on  a  slippery  shelf,  which 
I  had  attained  with  difficulty  in  order  to  get  a  decent  cast, 
with  a  dense  thicket  of  alders  over  my  head  and  an  inky 
pool  of  unknown  depth  directly  below  my  feet.  I  had 
hooked  the  fellow  just  at  the  foot  of  the  pool  beside  which  I 
stood.      The  angler  will  appreciate  the  situation.     I  had 


24  SALMOKID^. 

either  to  break  tackle,  lose  fish,  or  perchance  drown  myself. 
The  rapid  return  of  the  fish  made  a  frightful  sag  in  my  fine, 
and  I  was  "  taking  in  slack  "  as  rapidly  as  possible,  when  the 
extra  strain  of  the  line  drawing  down  the  current  wakened 
up  his  ideas ;  and,  giving  a  short  leap  clear  of  the  water,  he 
darted  down  stream  like  a  rocket.  How  the  hook  kept  fast 
in  his  jaws  all  this  time  was  a  mystery.  Zijp  w^ent  the  reel 
with  a  velocity  that  almost  struck  fire;  into  the  water 
leaped  the  rod,  following  the  fish ;  and  after  the  rod  floun- 
dered I,  still  clinging  to  the  but.  I  did  not  say  my  prayers, 
but  I  had  just  time  to  think  how  much  it  wacild  cost  to  re- 
pair my  Baguelin  watch,  when  my  feet  touched  gravel  at  the 
head  of  the  rapid,  and  one  risk  was  canceled.  If  you  had 
seen  me  follow  that  fish  (^.own  stream,  you  would  have  been 
delighted  at  my  good  fortune  in  circumventing  obstacles. 
The  river  was  full  of  boulders,  and  there  was  great  and  imme- 
diate danger  of  getting  my  line  fouled.  But  I  presently  got 
control  of  my  game,  and  gave  him  the  but  handsomely — and 
after  that  he  didn't  run  faster  than  I  wished.  The  fellow 
had  me  at  a  disadvantage,  and  the  wonder  was  how  I  ever 
got  him  at  all ;  but  when  I  emptied  the  w^ater  out  of  my 
long  boots,  I  felt  glad  that  I  had  bagged  that  fish.  But  I 
have  always  worn  low  shoes  since,  when  fishing. 

Doubtless  there  is  an  exultant,  pulse-compelling  pride  in 
landing  a  monster  salmon  of  indefinite  weight,  which  does  not 
pertain  to  ordinary  or  extraordinary  trout-fishing ;  but  as  to  the 
comparative  merits  of  the  two  species,  it  is  a  question  in  my 
mind  which  should  be  voted  the  nobler  game.  Their  habits, 
haunts  and  characteristics  are  identical  in  many  respects;  and 
excepting  in  size,  one  may  be  justly  regarded  the  peer  of  the 
other.  This  single  difierence  may  be  adjusted,  as  I  have  shown, 
by  a  proper  adaptation  of  the  tackle  employed  to  capture 
them.  It  is  certainly  rougher  work  to  kill  a  salmon,  and  vast- 
ly more  fatiguing :  and  at  times  the  sport  is  positively  dan- 
gerous. As  respects  collateral  pleasures  derived  from  natural 
surroundings  and  associations,  it  may  be  remarked  that  trout 


SALMONID^.  25 

streams  are  generally  more  romantic  than  those  localities, 
where  salmon  are  caught ;  because  being  tributaries  of  the 
larger  rivers,  they  are  situated  higher  up  among  the  mount- 
ain sources ;  they  are  farther  from  the  salt  air  of  the  ocean, 
and  in  a  rarer  and  purer  atmosphere ;  they  are  generally 
more  accessible  to  civilization ;  and  they  traverse  regions  more 
hospitable,  where  game  is  found  in  greater  variety  and  abun- 
dance, where  the  forests  are  denser  and  teem  with  bird  and 
insect  life.  And  finally,  as  regards  those  ambidextrous  ex- 
perts who  afiect  to  regard  trout-fishing  as  the  inferior  art  and 
beneath  their  attention,  I  will  simply  revenge  myself  by 
quoting  from  Francis  Francis,  the  astute  observer,  who  says : 
"A  good  trout-fisher  will  easily  become  an  expert  at  salmon- 
fishing:  but  a  very  respectable  practitioner  with  the  sal- 
mdn-rod  will  often  have  all  his  schooling  to  do  afresh,  should 
he  descend  to  trout-fishing,  before  he  can  take  rank  as  a  mas- 
ter of  the  art." 

IV. 

There  are  some  kinds  of  fish,  comely  in  appearance,  bold 
biters,  and  rather  successful  torturers  of  fine  tackle,  which 
are  styled  game-fish  and  angled  for  as  such,  but  which  by  no 
means  deserve  the  name  and  reputation.  Such  customers 
may  possibly  "pass  in  a  crowd,*'  as  the  shabby  genteel  frequent- 
ly do  among  the  masses  of  human  society.  But  the  superior 
qualities  and  attributes  of  the  true  game-fish  are  readily  de- 
tected. 

Define  me  a  gentleman  and  I  will  define  you  a  "  game" 
fish;  "which  the  same"  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps, 
and  recognized  by  his  dress  and  address,  features,  habits,  in- 
telligence, haunts,  food,  and  manner  of  eating.  The  true 
game-fish,  of  which  the  trout  and  salmon  are  frequently  the 
types,  inhabit  the  fairest  regions  of  nature's  beautiful  domain. 
They  drink  only  from  the  purest  fountains,  and  subsist  upon 
the  choicest  food  their  pellucid  streams  supply.    Not  to  say 


26  SALMOI^riD^. 

tliat  all  fish  that  inhabit  clear  and  sparkling  waters  are  game- 
fish  :  for  there  are  many  such,  of  symmetrical  form  and  deli- 
cate flavor,  that  take  neither  bait  nor  fly.  But  it  is  self-evi- 
dent that  no  fish  which  inhabit  foul  or  sluggish  waters  can 
be  '"game-fish."  It  is  impossible  from  the  very  circum- 
stances of  their  surroundings  and  associations.  They  may 
flash  with  tinsel  and  tawdry  attire ;  they  may  strike  with 
the  brute  force  of  a  blacksmith,  or  exhibit  the  dexterity  of  a 
prize-fighter,  but  their  low  breeding  and  vulgar  quality  can- 
not be  mistaken.  Their  haunts,  their  very  food  and  manner 
of  eating,  betray  their  grossness. 

Into  the  noble  Neepigon  wiiich  rolls  its  crystal  tide  into 
Lake  Superior,  sluggish  creeks  debouch  at  intervals,  whose 
inky  waters,  where  they  join  the  main  river,  are  as  dis- 
tinctly defined  as  the  muddy  Missouri  is  at  its  confluence 
with  the  Mississippi.  In  the  limpid  waters  of  the  one  the 
silvery  trout  disport ;  among  the  rushes  that  line  the  oozy 
shores  of  the  other,  gaunt  pike  of  huge  proportions  lie  mo- 
tionless as  logs,  an-d  wallow  in  the  mud  and  sunshine.  Sure- 
ly mere  instinct  should  decide  our  preference  between  the 
two  species  of  fish,  even  if  nature  had  not  so  plainly  drawn 
her  demarcating  lines.  By  the  comparison  the  pike  must 
yield  his  place  in  the  category  of  game-fish,  even  though  he 
be  a  bold  biter  and  voracious.  His  habits  are  offensive,  and 
he  feeds  not  on  such  food  as  make  fish  noble.  Trout  and  sal- 
mon cultivate  the  society  of  no  such  "  frauds  "  as  he.  They 
mingle  voluntarily  with  none  but  the  select  coterie  of  their 
own  kith  and  kin,  and  carefully  avoid  the  contamination  of 
groveling  bottom-fish.  They  will  not  thrive  in  oonfinecl  and 
muddy  waters,  but  die  eventually,  crowded  out  by  their 
brutish  companions :  or  they  become  altogether  demoralized, 
losing  their  activity,  their  brilliancy  of  color,  beauty  of  form, 
and  delicacy  of  flavor.  On  nothing  does  the  flavor  and  gen- 
eral appearance  of  a  trout  or  a  salmon  depend  so  much  as  the 
character  of  the  water  in  which  he  lives.  There  is  no  flesh 
of  fish  so  rank  and  repulsive  to  the  taste  as  that  of  a  trout 


SALMONID^.  27 

inhabiting  a  muddy  pond  where  pickerel,  bull-heads  and 
slimy  eels  do  congregate,  and  whose  food  are  the  slugs  and 
decaying  animal  and  vegetable  deposits  on  the  bottom.  Even 
in  waters  which  flow  through  cedar  and  tamarack  swamps 
or  boggy  meadows,  the  flavor  of  the  trout  is  much  impaired. 
No  matter  in  whatsoever  locality  he  may  abide,  unless  it  has  the 
gravelly  bottom  and  the  clear  col(i  water  of  the  secret  spring 
or  dashing  stream,  the  trout  will  become  degenerate,  and  bear 
the  traits  and  marks  of  the  evil  company  he  keeps  and  the 
unhappy  place  he  calls  his  home.  It  is  these  varying  marks 
of  body  and  tints  of  flesh,  produced  by  extraneous  causes, 
that  so  greatly  confuse  the  attempts  to  determine  and  classify 
the  apparent  varieties  of  the  Salmo  family. 


V. 


That  very  cautious  and  well-informed  student,  William 
H.  Herbert  (Frank  Forrester),  speaking  of  the  results  of 
careful  scientific  investigation,  covering  a  period  of  many 
years,  remarks  that "  many  varieties  of  Salmonidae  which  were 
formerly  supposed  to  be  truly  distinct,  have  been  proved  to 
be  identical,  and  many  new  species  discovered.  *  *  * 
Even  in  so  circumscribed  a  territory  as  Great  Britain,  every 
water  of  which  has  been  explored,  and,  it  may  be  presumed, 
almost  every  fish  submitted  to  the  examination  of  scientific 
men,  great  doubts  yet  exist  concerning  many  forms,  whether 
they  are  absolutely  distinct,  or  merely  casual  varieties,  inca- 
pable of  reproduction." 

Since  these  words  were  written,  twenty-two  years  ago,  veiy 
little  additional  light  has  been  shed  on  the  subject,  and  little 
information  gathered,  excepting  as  regards  the  newly  explored 
territory  of  our  new  Northwest  and  the  Pacific  coast.  In  this 
latter  region  the  number  of  supposed  distinct  varieties  is  as- 
tonishing. Vast  numbers  of  fish  differing  in  anatomical  pe- 
culiarities, species,  and  color,  and  changing  much  with  age. 


28  SALMOIS^ID^. 

sex,  and  condition,  season  of  the  year,  or  quality  of  the  wa- 
ter, appal  by  their  number  and  confuse  with  their  variety, 
rendering  it  almost  impossible  to  classify  them.  Prof.  Baird, 
of  the  Smithsonian  Institute,  writes,  November  1872 :  "  I  do 
not  think  there  is  any  one  living  who  could  do  this  at  present, 
especially  in  the  absence  of  a  series  sufficiently  extensive  to 
admit  of  the  necessary  conaparison.  I  am  using  every  effort 
to  bring  together  the  necessary  specimens  in  order  to  have 
this  work  done.  The  pubhshed  literature  of  the  subject  is 
entirely  incomplete  and  unsatisfactory.  We  have  taken  for 
granted  certain  resemblances  that  did  not  actually  exist,  and 
we  must  fall  back  upon  an  entirely  new  investigation,  based 
upon  large  numbers  of  specimens  from  many  localities,  and 
represented  by  individuals  of  every  age  and  sex." 

The  elementary  principles  of  comparative  anatomy  are  so 
simple  that  a  child  may  understand  them.  In  respect  to  fish 
the  species  are  distinguished  from  each  other  by  the  structure 
of  the  fins,  the  shape  of  the  gills,  and  the  system  of  the  teeth. 
Any  permanent  or  unvarying  difference  in  these,  coupled  to 
other  varieties  of  color,  form,  habit,  or  the  like,  which  might 
seem  casual,  are  held  sufficient  to  constitute  a  distinct  species. 
The  teeth  of  fishes  indicate  as  clearly  their  habits  and  mode 
of  feeding  as  do  the  teeth  of  quadrupeds  inform  the  natur- 
alist whether  they  are  carnivorous,  graminivorous,  or  rumi- 
nating. In  the  same  family  of  fishes  the  difference  in  the 
dental  system  is  often  very  marked ;  but  in  the  absence  of 
reliable  data  as  to  age,  sex,  and  other  conditions  necessary  to 
a  comparison,  the  naturalist  may  well  despair  of  making  a 
perfect  classification. 

Under  the  great  generic  divisions  known  as  the  AMominal 
malacopterygii,  or  those  which  have  their  fin-rays  soft  and 
flexible,  is  classed  the  family  of  "  Salmonidae,"  which  are 
characterized  by  an  adipose  second  dorsal  fin.  "  No  other 
family  has  it "  except  the  SaluridcBy  or  catfish.  Of  the  "  Sal- 
monidse  "  there  are  endless  varieties  and  sub-genera— migra- 
tory, non-migratory,  and  anadromous — which  include  those 


SALMON^ID^.  29 

designated  as  the  Salmo,  the  Cor  eg  onus,  the  Thymdllus  or 
GrayHng,  the  Mallotus  or  Capehn,  and  the  Osmerus  or  smelt. 
The  genus  Coregonus  includes  the  Attehawmeg  or  whitefish, 
of  delicious  flavor,  which  abounds  in  all  the  great  lakes  of  the 
Northwest,  and  is  also  found  in  Seneca  and  Cayuga  lakes; 
the  herring  of  Lake  Huron;  the  herring  salmon,  found  in  Lake 
Erie,  the  Niagara  River,  Seneca  Lake,  and  throughout  the  great 
northwest,  and  generally  known  as  the  scisco  of  commerce; 
and  the  misnamed  "  Otsego  Bass."  The  Thymallus  signifer, 
or  Arctic  Grayling,  is  spoken  of  by  one  or  two  authorities  as 
a  superb  game-fish.  Its  average  weight  is  six  pounds.  It  is 
found  in  the  Winter  Eiver  (62d  parallel)  and  the  waters 
that  flow  from  the  Great  Slave  Lake  into  the  Arctic  ocean. 
The  whitefish  is  sometimes  taken  in  Lake  Champlain,  in  the 
month  of  August,  with  what  is  known  as  the  shad-fly.  This 
curious  fly  is  lead-colored,  about  an  inch  in  length,  and  makes 
its  advent  in  swarms  like  unto  the  flies  of  Egypt.  It  covers 
the  surface  of  the  lake,  and  is  washed  upon  the  shore  in  wind- 
rows three  inches  deep.  The  whitefish,  or  *•  shad  "  as  they 
are  called  by  the  local  fishermen,  take  them  with  great  avid- 
ity. I  have  known  this  fish  to  take  the  fly  in  other  locali- 
ties. 

However,  of  the  varieties  named  none  arc  considered 
"  game-fish,"  or  known  to  the  sporting  world  as  such.  Prac- 
tically they  are  of  no  value  to  the  angler.  The  /S'flj^mo  alone 
merits  his  attention ;  he  is  an  opponent  worthy  of  his  met- 
tle, and  the  angler  who  would  enter  the  lists  with  him  must 
prepare  to  undergo  hardships  and  toil  that  will  test  his  man-* 
hood  and  powers  of  physical  endurance.  His  geographical 
range  is  included  within  a  belt  of  thirty  degrees  width  that 
girts  the  entire  northern  hemisphere.  It  lies  between  lati- 
tudes 40°  and  70°,  and  extends  through  Russian  Asia,  the 
whole  of  Europe,,  and  across  the  entire  North  American  con- 
tinent. He  delights  in  cold  water,  and  will  thrive  only 
where  the  temperature  is  below  60°  Fahrenheit..  As  has 
been  remarked,  the  variety  of  his  species  is  remarkable.    Not 


30 


SALMONID^. 


to  mention  other  countries,  we  find  no  less  than  nineteen 
varieties  upon  our  Pacific  coast  alone.  Dr.  Suckley,  U.  S.  A., 
in  his  oflBcial  report  (1855)  on  the  surveys  for  the  Pacific 
Eailway,  gives  a  list  of  seventeen,  peculiar  to  the  waters  of 
Oregon  and  Washington,  which  is  appended  herewith,  with 
their  scientific  synonyms,  their  local  or  vernacular  names,  and 
the  season  of  year  when  they  run  up  the  rivers  to  spawn : 


SciENTiPia  Synonym, 


Salmo  Quinnat. 

*'  Paucidens. 

"  Tsuppitch. 

"  Argyreus. 

"  Truncatus. 

"  Gairdnerii. 

"  Gibbsii. 

"  Confluentus. 

"  Scouleri. 

"  Gibber. 

"  Canis. 

"  Spectabilis. 

"  Aurora. 
Clarkii. 

"  Stellatus. 

"  Lewisii. 
Thaleichthys  Pacificus. 


Vernacular. 


Spring  Silver  Salmon. 
Weak-toothed    " 
White  " 


Square-tailed     " 
Spring  " 

Black-spotted  Salmon  Trout. 


Hool^ed-nose  Salmon. 
Hump-backed    " 
Dog,  or  Spotted  " 
Red-spotted  Salmon  Trout. 

Brook  Trout. 

Missouri " 
Eulachon. 


Time  of  Running. 


April  and  May. 

May  and  June. 

September. 

Autumn. 

Mid-winter. 

May  and  June. 

Not  Anadromous. 

June. 

September  and  October. 

Sept,  and  Oct.  in  alt.  years. 

November. 

Midsummer  and  Autumn. 


Not  Anadromous. 


To  the  above  should  be  added  the  8alar  iridea,  or  brook- 
trout,  the  silver-trout,  and  the  Ptyclioclieilus  grandis,  sal- 
mon-trout^these  varieties  peculiar  to  California.  Of  the  so- 
called  varieties  of  salmon,  it  is  probable  that  several  are 
identical ;  nevertheless,  the  best-approved  authorities  place 
the  number  of  distinct  species  at  not  less  than  half-a-dozen. 
The  Salmo  quinnat  is  esteemed  the  finest  on  the  Pacific — 
"often  weighs  30  or  40  lbs.,  and  sometimes  75  lbs. ;  the  Sal- 
mo scouleri  will,  average  30  lbs.  Magnificent  as  these 
weights  are,  they  have  been  equaled  in  eastern  waters  in 
years  gone  by  ;  but  of  late  our  fish  have  greatly  diminished 
in  size,  both  in  the  average  and  in  individual  specimens. 
When  the  Northern  Pacific  Eailroad  is  completed,  the  rod- 
fisherman  will  find  this  Paradise  of  the  Pacific  easily  access- 
ible ;  at  present  he  must  confine  himself  to  Canadian  waters. 
There  is  not  a  river  in  the  eastern  United  States  that  affbrds 


SALMOKID^.  31 

good  fly-fishing  for  salmon,  unless  it  be  the  Dennys  Eiver,  in 
Maine,  which  heads  in  Medeybemps  Lake,  and  empties  into 
Passamaquoddy  Bay. 

Next  to  the  lordly  salmon,  the  common  trout  (Salmo  fon- 
tinalis)  ranks  highest  in  the  esteem  of  anglers.  He  is  so 
widely  known  that  further  specification  is  unnecessary.. 

The  "  land-locked  salmon "  {Salmo  gloveri),  is  a  game-fish 
of  great  repute,  found  only  in  the  St.  Croix,  Schoodic,  or 
Grrand  Lakes,  which  divide  Maine  from  New  Brunswick ; 
in  the  Union  Eiver,  Maine,  which  lies  between  the  Penob- 
scot and  St.  Croix  ;  in  the  northern  waters  of  Maine  gener- 
ally ;  and  in  the  Upper  Saguenay. 

Of  the  thirteen  species  of  Lake  Trout  given  by  Dr.  Eich- 
ardson,  none  are  considered  game-fish,  as  they  seldom  rise  to 
a  fly ;  but  they  afford  good  sport  for  trolhng,  etc.  The  best- 
known  varieties  are  the  toag  of  Lakes  Pepin,  Moosehead  and 
St.  Croix,  the  tuladi  of  Temiscouata  and  waters  of  northern 
New  Brunswick ;  the  common  lake-trout  {Salmo  confinis)  of 
New  York  and  New  England ;  the  Ciscovit  of  Ontario ;  and 
the  Mackinaw  salmon  of  the  great  lakes  of  the  west  and 
northwest.  The  last-named  {Salmo  amethystus  or  Salmo 
naymacusli)  is  the  largest  of  his  race,  often  attaining  a 
weight  of  seventy-five  pounds ;  his  range  extends  far  into 
the  Arctic  regions.  The  Ciscovit  {Salmo  siskowitz)  attains 
a  weight  of  twenty-five  pounds,  and  with  his  congeners,  the 
Scisco  and  Mackinaw  salmon,  constitutes  a  very  considerable 
item  of  Canadian  export  from  the  Province  of  Ontario. 
None  of  the  lake-trout  possess  that  delicacy  of  flavor  which 
pertains  to  most  other  varieties  of  the  Salmo  family. 

The  Sea  Trout  or  Tide  Trout  {Salmo  trutta)  is  a  superb 
game-fish,  and  is  taken  all  along  the  coasts  of  Labrador,  the 
Eiver  and  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  maritime  Prov- 
inces. Some  of  the  bays  of  Prince  Edward's  Island  are 
famous  a^  its  resorts.  It  is  generally,  though  not  always, 
taken  in  salt  water,  and  near  the  mouth  of  rivers. 

The  Sebago  Trout  {Salmo  sehago)  is  a  monster  trout  with 


32  SALMOKID^. 

all  the  marks  and  characteristics  of  the  common  brook-trout, 
but  much  thicker  and  more  "  chunky  *'  in  proportion  to  his 
length,  and  often  attains  a  weight  of  ten  pounds.  It  is 
found  in  Lake  Eichardson,  Sebago  Lake,  Moosehead  Lake, 
and  in  Lakes  Umbagog,  Eangely,  and  other  feeders  of  the 
Kennebec  and  Androscoggin  Eivers  in  Maine,  and  is  direct- 
ly allied  to  the  Salmo  confinis.  In  the  Neepigon  Eiver, 
which -empties  into  Lake  Superior,  are  two  distinct  varieties 
of  trout,  one  of  which  closely  resembles  the  Sebago  trout, 
and  the  other  the  ordinary  brook-trout.  Both  are  of  extra- 
ordinary size,  and  afford  superlative  sport  to  the  angler. 

In  Loch  Lomond,  near  St.  John,  New  Brunswick,  there  is 
a  fish  known  as  the  white  trout,  which  differs  in  many  re- 
spects from  its  kindred,  and  is  generally  believed  to  be  a  dis- 
tinct variety. 

The  list  herewith  given  comprises  nearly  all  the  known  or 
recognized  varieties  of  Salmonidse  in  America. 


YL 


Were  the  earnest  seeker  after  knowledge  to  critically  exam- 
ine all  the  learned  disquisitions  on  Salmok  that  have  been 
put  forth  since  the  days  of  Pliny  by  the  best  recognized 
authorities,  he  would  utterly  despair  of  ever  learning  any- 
thing. The  whole  subject— the  habits  of  the  salmon,  his 
food,  his  habitat,  even  his  personal  identity — ^would  become 
as  much  a  mystery  as  the  question  of  revealed  religion,  vexed 
by  the  theologians  of  eight  hundred  sects.  "Confusion 
worse  confounded  "  has  always  attended  the  controversies  of 
these  learned  doctors,  who  seem  inclined  to  make  the  sub- 
ject a  mystery,  in  order  that  out  of  its  hidden  depths  they 
may  exhume  and  unfold  to  an  admiring  world  the  golden 
results  of  their  own  profound  investigations.  And  still  the 
great  conundrum,  "  Wlien  is  a  salmon  not  a  salmon  ?  "  hes 
open  for  solution ! 


SALMOKID^.  33 

To  ordinary  minds,  under  the  light  of  mere  common 
sense,  unaided  by  bookish  wisdom,  the  sahnon  appears  to  be 
amenable  to  the  same  natural  laws  as  other  fish.  Its  species 
are  affected  by  food,  temperature,  etc.^  which  goyern  its 
migrations,  its  yarious  seasons  for  spawning,  and  the  time  it 
takes  for  the  eggs  to  hatch.  The  simple  student  of  nature 
gathers  his  knowledge  from  wilderness  streams  or  the  arti- 
ficial breeding-works  of  the  pisciculturist — practical  schools 
where  truths  are  learned,  and  fallacies  set  at  naught ;  where 
dogmas  of  would-be  scientists  are  overset  by  ocular  demon- 
stration. He  recognizes  in  the  salmon  a  creature,  whose 
existence,  like  man's,  is  divided  into  four  periods — ^infancy, 
youth,  manhood,  and  ripe  old  age — and  he  designates  these 
several  stages  of  fish-life  by  the  names  of  Parr,  Smolt, 
Grilse,  and  Salmon.  Observation  has  taught  him  that  one 
portion  of  this  existence  is  passed  in  salt  water,  and  the  re- 
mainder in  fresh ;  that  in  salt  water  he  feeds  and  grows  fat, 
and  in  the  fresh  expends  his  strength  and  vital  forces ;  that 
these  conditions  are  the  necessary  precedent  and  natural 
sequence  of  procreation ;  that  many  of  his  species  die  in -the 
attempt  to  reach  their  spawning-grounds,  and  many  in  the 
act  of  spawning ;  and  that  these  are  the  ordinary  phenomena 
of  reproduction  throughout  the  animal  creation.  It  is  also 
evident  that  salmon  must  vary  in  size  and  general  appear- 
ance according  to  their  ages;  that  adults  may  be  as  dis- 
tinctly and  as  variously  marked  as  the  kine  on  the  lea,  and 
still  belong  to  the  self-same  species.  Along  the  coasts  of 
Nova  Scotia  old  fishermen  pretend  to  distinguish  the  fish 
that  belong  to  different  rivers — it  being  a  well-known  fact 
in  the  natural  history  of  the  salmon  that  they  almost  inva- 
riably return  to  their  native  streams  to  spawn. 

After  they  have  ascended  to  their  spawning  beds,  it  re- 
quires ten  or  twelve  days  to  fulfill  their  mission,  and  they 
then  go  back  to  the  sea.  It  takes  the  ova  three  or  four 
months  to  hatch,  according  to  the  temperature,  45°  being 
perhaps  the  most  favorable.    In  two  months  after  the  young 


34  SALMONID^. 

fry  leave  the  egg  tliey  have  grown  to  an  inch  and  a  quar- 
ter in  length ;  in  six  months  to  three  inches.  At  the  end  of 
fourteen  months  one  half  the  family  have  completed  their 
parr  or  infant  stage,  and  go  down  to  the  sea  as  smolts,  much 
changed  in  their  general  appearance.  The  other  half  of  the 
family  follow  at  the  end  of  the  second  year,  though  a  few 
will  remain  until  the  fourth  year.  The  smolt,  in  the  nourish- 
ing waters  of  the  briny  ocean  gains  a  pound  in  weight  per 
month,  and  toward  the  close  of  summer  returns  to  his  birth- 
place in  the  blue  and  silver  livery  of  a  grilse,  and  very  like 
a  salmon  in  appearance.  The  grilse  tarries  in  the  upper 
river  until  the  following  spring,  and  then  returns  again  to 
the  sea  a  fall  grown  salmon — three  years  being  the  time  re- 
quired to  reach  his  maturity. 

The  season  of  the  year  at  which  salmon  spawn  varies  ac- 
cording to  geographical  locality  and  temperature  of  water. 
For  instance,  in  the  Port  Medway  river,  Nova  Scotia,  salmon 
are  taken  with  a  fly  in  February  when .  the  ice  is  running, 
while  in  the  lower  St.  Lawrence  they  are  not  taken  until  af- 
ter the  middle  of  June.  The  time  of  spawning  often  varies 
in  the  same  river,  and  is  determined  by  the  period  at  which 
impregnation  has  taken  place.  It  is  a  pecuhar  fact  that  the 
salmon  propagates  its  kind  before  it  is  adult,  the  males 
only,  however,  attaining  sexual  maturity.  A  portion  of  the 
"  run"  therefore,  being  riper  than  others,  spawn  sooner,  and 
having  fulfilled :  their  mission,  return  at  once ,  to  the  sea, 
while  their  less  fortunate  kindred  must  continue  their  pil- 
grimage, perchance  to  head- waters  ;  for  so  long  as  their  great 
work  remains  unaccomplished,  they  will  press  on  ;  until 
stopped  by  insurmountable  obstacles.  Where  the  rivers  are 
short,  the  salmon  return  merely  emaciated  and  reduced  in 
weight;  but  in  the  Columbia,  which,  with  its  tributaries,  ex- 
tends for  hundreds  of  miles,  they  die  by  millions,  worn  out 
and  exhausted  by  their  incredible  journey.  Such  as  reach 
the  upper  spawning  beds  arrive  in  a  mutilated  condition, 
with  their  tails  and  fins  worn  off,  and  their  heads  crushed 


SALMOIflD^.  35 

and  almost  shapeless.  Fortunate  are  those  which  have  vital- 
ity enough  left  to  be  able  to  return  to  the  sea.  Indeed,  so 
great  is  the  mortality  that  it  has  been  generally  believed  that 
they  never  return  at  all. 

Salmon  do  not  eat  while  on  their  travels ;  or  if  perchance 
they  do  feed  at  long  intervals  (as  setting  hens  do  when  they 
come  off  their  nests  betimes),  they  digest  so, rapidly  that 
nothing  has  been  found  in  their  stomachs  in  quantity  suffi- 
cient to  determine  what  constitutes  their  favorite  bill-of-fare. 
It  is  only  when  resting  in  the  occasional  pools  that  they  take 
the  angler's  liire.  At  mouths  of  rivers,  however,  on  the  very 
threshold  of  their  departure  for  the  upper  waters,  they  will 
take  bait  and  red  worms  with  avidity. 

VII. 

Anxiously  does  tlie  fisherman  await  the  salmon's  advent. 
Twice  a  day  the  tide  flows  in  and  fills  the  bed  of  the  river  for 
half-a-mile  from  its  mouth,  and  when  the  ebb  has  followed  he 
carefully  scans  the  water  as  it  flows  limpid  and  fresh  from  its 
fountain-head.  In  the  clear  depths  where  the  current  has 
worn  a  channel  or  hollowed  out  a  trough,  close  to  the  bottom 
he  descries  an  object,  motionless  and  scarcely  distinguishable 
from  the  oblong  stones  on  which  it  lies.  If  he  toss  a  bait  in 
there  gently,  just  above  it,  ten  to  one  he  will  hook  a  salmon ! 
The  fish  has  not  yet  lost  his  appetite  for  substantial  food ; 
cast  a  fly  over  him,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  he  even  rises.  Pitch 
a  stone  at  him,  and  he  will  quickly  change  his  base,  a  little 
surprised — perhaps  move  a  rod  further  up  the  channel ;  but 
he  will  not  run.  He  feels  somewhat  strange ;  ;  he  has  just 
come  in  from  a  tour  of  the  Atlantic,  and  is  not  yet  accus- 
tomed to  his  new  quarters.  He  is  unsophisticated— they 
don't  throw  stones  or  skitter  flies  down  in  the  recesses  of  the 
Atlantic.  He  has .  never  heard  of  the  treasons  and  strata- 
gems that  beset  the  journey  of  the  river.  Well,  he  will  learn 
betimes.      We  will  give  him  a  lesson  to-morrow,  further  up 


36  SALMONID^. 

stream ;  or  at  least  we  will  pay  our  respects  to  liis  comrades, 
for  we  perceive  that  the  "run"  has  fairly  commenced. 
Should  there  be  a  heavy  rain  to-night  to  raise  the  river,  we 
can  promise  fine  sport.  There  is  nothing  like  a  freshet  to 
help  the  salmon  on  their  way.  It  Hfts  them  over  the  ine- 
qualities of  the  bottom,  and  makes  their  rugged  path  smooth. 
It  lessens  the  difficulties  of  the  falls,  and  conceals  their  move- 
ments from  inquisitive  enemies.  On  a  bright  day  like  this, 
with  a  medium  stage  of  water,  it  requires  some  caution  and 
wary  approach  to  insure  the  angler  success. 

Let  us  follow  up  the  stream  a  mile  or  two.  '  The  river  is 
narrower  here,  and  more  broken  into  alternate  pools  and 
rapids ;  the  pools  are  black  as  ink,  and  the  rapids  run  shal- 
low. Pebbly  bars,  strewn  with  boulders,  make  out  from  the 
hither  shore,  and  force  the  greater  volume  of  water  into  the 
contracted  channel  which  the  current  has  worn  under  yon 
precipitous  bank.  It  runs  like  a  mill-race  there.  Ha !  did 
you  see  that  salmon  shoot  up  those  rapids?  No!  look — 
there's  another !  Ah  1  I  perceive  your  eye  is  unaccustomed 
to  the  water.  One  of  those  Indians  we  saw  down  stream 
could  almost  count  the  fish  as  they  run  by.  Let  us  walk  up 
to  yonder  pool ;  it  is  not  deep,  and  we  may  see  some  big  fel- 
lows resting  above  the  chute.  Cautiously,  my  friend !  our 
salmon  has  learned  to  be  sly.  There!  do  you  see  those  three 
lying  there  in  the  middle  of  the  pool,  drawn  up  in  line  equi- 
distant from  each  other,  heads  up  stream,  with  the  middle 
one  a  little  in  advance  of  the  others  ?  Whew !  off  they  go 
like  a  flash,  and  half  way  np  the  next  rapid  by  this  time. 
Did  you  ever  see  such  velocity  ?  They  say  a  salmon  travels 
thirty  miles  a  day  when  ascending  a  river ;  but  if  he  always 
makes  as  good  time  as  that  just  now,  he  ought  to  do  it  in  an 
hour. 

Bn  avant !  Above  here  the  river  widens  into  a  noble 
pool  which  forms  a  little  bay  on  this  side.  We  used  to  camp 
on  the  bank  there,  and  the  grass  has  covered  the  old  site  with 
a  beautiful  sward.     By  Jove !  there's  a  canoe — under  those 


SALMONID^.  37 

bushes !  Indian  Joe's,  I  yow  !  Confound  the  rascal !  he's 
getting  ready  to  set  his  nets  in  the  pool  here.  Yes,  and 
there's  his  huoy  out  there,  just  at  the  edge  of  the  quick  water. 
I  had  no  idea  the  fish  had  been  running,  but  you  can't  beat 
an  Indian  at  his  own  game,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  the 
scoundrel  was  hidden  in  the  brush  hereabouts  somewhere. 

"  Halloa !  Hal-loo-oo !  Come  out  of  that,  you  Joe !  it's 
no  use  skulking  1  Ah !  there  you  are,  are  you  ?  Come  here ! 
I  say,  Joe,  salmon  running  ?  " 

"  Dunno — mebby." 

"Tried  the  river  yet?" 

"  Yes — try  um." 

"Catch  anything?" 

"  No  catch  'em — break  'em  fly-rod." 

"Where's  Sam?" 

"Dunno." 

"  Sam  up  river  ?  " 

"  I  suppose." 

"Dipping?" 

"  I  dunno." 

"  What  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"Mend,  um  canoe — he  broke  too." 

"  Here,  Joe ;  try  a  little  whiskey.  There !  how  do  you  like 
that?  good?" 

"Yes— good." 

"  'Now  see  here,  Joe.  This  gentleman  wants  to  buy  a  sal- 
mon— give  plenty  good  price, — you  know  ?  " 

"Eh?" 

"  Sell  UTO.  salmon — get  money — understand  ? " 

"  I  suppose." 

"  Now,  Joe,  there's  no  use  fooling.  Tell  me — have  you  got 
any  salmon?" 

"  Yes — got  salmon." 

"How  many?" 

"One." 

"  Where  you  got  him  ?  "      • 


38  SALMONID^. 

"Up  here." 
.  "Let's  see  him.  Ho,  ho!  So!  yoa  rascal,  where  did  yon 
get  these  good  half-dozen  ?  Now,  look  here,  Joe,  you  can't 
fool  me.  -  Do  you  see  this  mark  around  these  fishes'  shoul- 
ders-^and  their  tails  split, !  too.  You've  been  netting,  you 
scoundrel !  .  There's  your  stake-buoy  out  yonder,  and  your 
canoe  here  as  sound  as  a  nut,  and  not  a  hole  in  it.  I've  a 
notion  _  to  bring  .  you  before  the  warden.  If  I  catch  you 
again,  I'll  do  it.  Two  dollars  fine  or  ten  days'  jail^do  you 
hear?  Now,  I'll  take  one  of  these  salmon  along  just  to 
keep  my  tongue  quiet.  Good  day,  Joe ;  look  out  for  your- 
self." 

Plague  take  these  Indians.  If  they  were  not  watched, 
they'd  destroy  the  river— stretching  their  nets  across  the 
narrowest  places  so  that  not  a  fish  can  pass  up.  Dipping  is 
bad  enough,  but  netting  is  ten  times  worse.  Up  here  at 
"  Kill  Devil  Hole"  I'll  show  you  how  they  dip  salmon.  I'll 
wager  Sam  is  there  now.  Ah !  here  we  come  to  a  long  reach 
of  still  water — ^fully  a  mile.  See  those  salmon  leaping — one 
— two — three !  What  somersaults  they  turn !  I  had  no  idea 
they  were  running  up  like  this.  The  season  is  ten  days  ear- 
lier than  usual.  It's  of  no  use  to  throw  a  fly  over  them. 
They  won't  take  a  fly  when  they  are  jumping.  There  is  no 
more  rod-fishing  until  you  get  to  the  next  pool  above.  See ! 
away  up  the  river,  where  it  narrows  so  ?  Don't  you  per- 
ceive the  foam  dashing  through  the  gorge?  That's  "Kill 
Devil  Hole."  I've  seen  a  dozen  Indians  dipping  there  at 
once,  and  fortunate  was  the  salmon  who  could  pass  the 
gauntlet.  There's  Sam  at  it  now !  You  see  him  standing 
on  the  ledge,  up  to  his  ankles  in  the  foam,  steadily  plying 
that  long-handled  scoop.  He  dips  it  into  the  water  mouth 
dovmward,  and  the  force  of  the  current  carries  it  on,  and 
gives  it  an  impetus  which  enables  him  to  lift  it  out  without 
much  physical  exertion.  As  the  passage  is  narrow,  and  the 
mouth  of  the  net  wide,  the  chances  of  the  salmon  escaping 
are  very  precarious. 


SALMOI^ID^.  39 

Now,  if  you  are  not  too  fatigued,  we  will  pass  on  to  the 
falls.  It  is  the  most  romantic  point  on  the  river.  There  is 
nothing  more  exciting  to  the  novice  than  a  school  of  salmon 
ascending  practicable  falls/where  the  waters  are  churned 
into  foam  as  they  tumble  through  the  narrow  gorge.  Leap- 
ing upward,  over,  and  through  the  seething  current,  turning 
desperate  flip-flaps,  diving  precipitately  into  the  foam*,  they 
vanish  and  reappear,  gaining  ledge  after  ledge  until  the  as- 
cent is  surmounted.  At  newly-erected  dams,  which  are  so 
high  as  to  be  impassable,  they  collect  in  such  vast  quantities 
as  to  be  scooped  out  with  nets,  each  new  arrival  swelHng  the 
numbers  already  on  the  ground,  and  in  their  turn  vainly 
and  repeatedly  attempting  to  leap  the  cruel  obstacle.  Where 
passes  or  fish-ways  are  provided,  as  they  now  are  over  all  the 
principal  dams  of  the  New  Dominion  and  a  few  in  the 
United  States,  the  salmon  instinctively  use  them,  and  go  on 
their  way  rejoicing. 

Should  we  pass  on  above  the  falls  to  head-waters  a  few 
days  hence,  we  can  easily  observe  the  process  of  spawning  in 
all  its  various  stages.  We  can  see  the  female  fish  in  the 
rapid  current  of  the  mid-stream,  holding  on  with  nervous 
grip  to  the  pebbly  bottom  with  her  pectoral  fins,  and  writh- 
ing for  a  few  moments  in  the  pangs  of  parturition  ;  '  then 
lying  motionless,  with  muscles  all  relaxed,  and  shedding  her 
spawn  into  the  gravel  which  she  has  beaten  loose  with  her 
tail.  Then  the  males  pass  alongside  of  her,  so  near  that 
their  bodies  touch,  and  precipitate  their  milt  to  impregnate 
the  spawn;  and  when  the  great  work  of  nature  is  com- 
pleted, the  force  of  the  current  gently  floats  the  loosened 
gravel  over  the  mass  and  covers  it.  Novices  will  suppose 
that  the  trough,  which  she  has  hollowed  out  with  her  tail  to 
loosen  the  gravel,  contains  the  spawn,  whereas  it  is  the  little 
mound  just  below  that  hides  the  precious  treasure.  Hence- 
forward time  alone  must  carry  out  the  work  of  procreation. 
The  incipient  germ  gradually  develops  into  a  vigorous  life, 
and  a  new  generation  of  nurslings  succeeds  to  the  parrs' 


40  SALMOi^ID^. 

estate,  while  the  latter  have  passed  to  the  degree  of  smolt, 
and  now  for  the  first  time  begin  to  feel  the  monitions  of  that 
instinct  which  will  presently  direct  them  to  the  sea.  To 
the  naturalist  and  the  angler  the  habits  of  the  salmon  afford 
a  study  which  never  wearies,  but  which  renews  itself  in 
brighter  colors  and  more  glowing  attractions  with  the  advent 
of  each  returning  spring. 

As  an  article  of  food  and  commerce  the  value  of  the  sal- 
mon can  hardly  be  appreciated,  though  much  more  now 
than  in  those  earlier  days  when  they  sold  for  a  penny  a-piece 
on  the  Tay,  or  in  the  latter  century,  when  laborers  on  our 
own  Connecticut  were  wont  to  stipulate  that  their  landladies 
should  not  give  them  salmon  rations  oftener  than  twice  a 
week !  It  is  only  when  we  enter  into  investigations  of  the 
statistical  information  on  record,  that  we  begin  to  conceive  its 
magnitude.  In  the  United  Kingdom  the  salmon  production 
is  stated  to  be  over  2,000,000  lbs.  per  year,  equal  to  400,000 
lbs.  of  mutton.  In  the  Dominion  of  Canada  the  production 
for  the  year  1871  was  nearly  four  milHon  and  a  half  of 
pounds,  divided  between  the  Provinces  as  follows:  New 
Brunswick,  1,608,496  lbs.;  Nova  Scotia,  1,286,979;  Quebec, 
including  Labrador,  1,425,200.  The  salmon  fisheries  of 
Newfoundland  constitute  a  very  considerable  item  in  the 
general  account.  On  the  Pacific  coast  the  production  of 
salmon  for  export  is  a  comparatively  new  branch  of  industry. 
The  annual  yield  is  enormous,  and  forms  the  principal  food 
and  support  of  all  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  coast  and  the  in- 
terior bordering  the  water-courses.  With  the  extension  of 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  to  Puget's  Sound,  this  quan- 
tity will  be  multiplied  many  fold,  and  doubtless  legal  restric- 
tions will  be  instituted  to  protect  the  fisheries  of  the  entire 
Pacific  region,  and  prevent  the  enormous  waste  that  now  re- 
sults from  direct  and  natural  causes.  The  export  returns, 
actual  and  estimated,  for  the  past  year,  show  a  total  of 
100,000  lbs.,  and  a  commercial  value  of  $40,000. 


SALM02)fID^.  41 


vni. 


Although  trout  {Salmo  fontinalis)  are  found  in  all  streams 
frequented  by  salmon,  save  in  rare  exceptional  cases,  their 
habits  are  in  some  respects  so  dissimilar  as  to  require  brief 
separate  mention.  The  trout  is  not  anadromous ;  neyerthe- 
less,  in  streams  which  flow  into  the  ocean,  he  is  not  averse  to 
occasional  trips  to  the  brine,  where  he  grows  fat  and  improves 
in  flavor  and  beauty.  This  is  the  case  with  the  trout  of  Long 
Island.  On  the  coasts  of  Nova  Scotia  and  Labrador  I  have 
taken  the  common  trout  at  the  mouths  of  rivers  side  by  side 
with  the  sea  trout,  with  identity  so  positive  as  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  them.  In  one  instance,  in  Labrador,  I  found 
a  small  stream  absolutely  deserted  by  its  tenants,  and  al- 
though I  plied  my  rod  through  all  its  length  to  its  source,  I 
got  no  rise  except  at  its  mouth ;  yet  I  had  previously  taken, 
and  afterwards  took  them  in  quantities  above.  Eor  the 
most  part,  however,  the  foraging  grounds  of  the  trout  are 
in  the  fresh  and  limpid  waters  of  his  nativity.  There  he 
feeds  upon  whatever  the  bottom  or  running  stream  supplies, 
or  whatever  chance  may  cast  upon  its  surface — feeds  often 
to  repletion.  Some  anglers  wonder  why  a  trout  will  bite  at 
one  time  and  not  at  another.  They  expect  always  to  find  a 
well-fed  trout  at  the  point  of  starvation,  and  eager  to  swal- 
low the  first  bait  ofiered,  no  matter  how  glaring  the  fi'aud. 
The  well-fed  trout  is  not  only  suspicious  of  traps,  but  nice  in 
his  diet.  Hence  the  necessity  of  discrimination  in  the  selec- 
tion of  flies  in  angling.  I  have  seen  a  school  of  trout  darken- 
ing the  bottom  of  a  stream  with  their  numbers,  and  refusing 
every  description  of  natural  and  artificial  lure — ^fly,  minnow, 
grub,  worm,  and  grasshopper  in  their  turn,  and  finally  rise  to  a 
light  green  bud  of  pennyroyal,  trolled  athwart  their  fastidious 
noses.  At  the  same  time  the  angler,  wading  cautiously  in  mid- 
stream, might  almost  stir  them  with  his  boots !  There  seems  to 
be  no  positive  rule  for  the  selection  of  flies,  although  the  most 


42  SALMONID^. 

infallible  lure  is  an  imitation  of  the  natural  fly  last  seen  upon 
the  surface.  The  angler's  true  expedient  is  to  change  his 
cast  until  haply  he  tickles  the  fancy  of  the  fish  he  wooes. 

One  should  possess  skill  enough  to  tie  his  own  flies  in  cases 
of  emergency,  and  judgment  to  select  his  patterns ;  but  it  is 
better;  as  a  rule,  to  leave  this  branch  of  the  "  gentle  art "  to 
the  dehcate  manipulations  of  professional  fly-dressers.  It  is 
probable  that  the  present  method  of  dressing  a  fly  with  the 
hook  entirely  exposed  to  the  keen  vision  and  suspicious  scru- 
tiny of  the  fish  which  it  is  expected  to  deceive,  will  be  ulti- 
mately superseded.  That  accomplished  scholar  and  ardent 
angler,  John  Mullaly,  Esq.,  of  the  New  York  Board  of  Health 
and  late  editor  of  the  "  Metropolitan  Kecord,"  has  contrived 
a  plan  by  which  the  lure  is  made  to  more  nearly  resemble 
the  natural  fly.  That  monstrous  appendage,  the  harhed  tally 
which  exists  in  no  species  of  fly,  or  of  anything  living  or 
dreamed  of  except  the  Devil,  is  hidden  from  sight  and  con- 
cealed between  the  wings.  At  the  same  time  the  balance  of 
the  hook  is  perfectly  preserved,  and  the  fly  kept  in  its  proper 
and  natural  position  upon  the  water.  If  it  be  that  fish  are 
so  nice  in  their  discrimination  as  to  detect  the  slightest  differ- 
ence in  the  anatomy  and  color  of  the  artificial  or  natural  fly, 
as  some  experts  would  have  us  believe,  this  innovation  in 
tying  certainly  gives  the  angler  an  advantage  over  his  noble 
opponent  which  he  has  not  hitherto  enjoyed ;  and  the  salmon 
will  have  to  be  more  liberally  handicapped  than  ever.  Gierke 
&  Co.,  I  know,  regard  this  improvement  with  great  favor.  I 
have  also  a  little  contrivance  of  my  own  which  can  be  used 
only  in  very  rough  water,  and  was  so  intended  to  be  used. 
It  is  merely  a  fly  dressed  in  the  ordinary  way,  with  a  bright 
metal  whirligig  or  swivel  around  its  neck,  which  revolves 
spoon-fashion  in  the  current,  and  attracts  attention.  It  is 
very  effective  in  the  Grand  Lake  stream  and  the  rapids  of  the 
Upper  Saguenay. 

Trout  are  nomadic  in  their  habits.  Large  fish  are  not  found 
at  the  head  of  a  stream.  As  they  grow  in  size,  they  constantly 


SALMOXID^.  43 

shift  their  places,  moving  down  stream  from  time  to  time,  and 
leaving  their  old  habitats  to  the  smaller  fry ;  just  as  generation 
after  generation  of  men  pass  away,  and  yield  their  places  to 
posterity.  They  have  always  their  favorite  holes  and  haunts. 
Catch  them  all  out  of  this  hole  to-day  and  others  will  sup- 
ply their  places  to-morrow.  Colder  water  in  this  spot,  or  a 
mineral  spring  of  agreeable  properties  in  that,  may  decide 
their  preferences;  or  the  chemicals  held  in  solution  may 
have  the  opposite  effect,  and  repel  fish  from  holes  which  to  the 
angler  seem  unexceptionable. 

There  is  little  to  be  said  of  fish  and  fishing  that  has  not  been 
repeatedly  told  in  books.  It  is  vain  to  attempt  a  new  varia- 
tion upon  the  old  tune.  Still,  a  few  hints  gathered  from 
long  experience  may  assist  in  the  selection  of  a  proper  outfit 
for  a  holiday  cruise.  •  •   .  . 

Setting  aside  all  the  minutiae  of  flies,  fly-books,  creels  and 
tackle,  I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  an  opinion  as  to 
what  a  rod  should  be — a  perfect  rod — which  is.  the  first 
requisite  and  great  desideratum  of  the  accomplished  angler. 
So  many  improvements  have  been  made  of  late  years  in  the 
construction  of  rods  that  old  stand-bys  are  laid  on  the  shelf, 
while  rod-makers  who  long  stood  pre-eminent,  are  compelled 
to  yield  a  modicum  of  their  prestige.  I  can  reverence  the 
old  sportsman  who  still  swears  by  his  Martin  Kelly  or  Chev- 
alier, '  or  the  superb  implement  of  Bowness  &  Bowness,  of 
London.  Doubtless  they  are  the  best  rods  made  in  Great 
Britain.  Possibly  they  are  superior  to  those  made  in  this 
country.  Dingey  Scribner,  of  St.  John,  l^ew  Brunswick, 
makes  a  greenheart  rod  which  is  held  in  high  repute  by  Cana- 
dians. The  Michell  Conroy  and  Terhune  rods,  manufac- 
tured in  New  York,  are  famous,  and  have  long  been  deserv- 
edly esteemed.  Kobert  Welch  used  to  make  an  excellent 
rod.  Probably  the  best  Conroy  is  as  perfect  an  implement  as 
can  be  constructed  by  the  old-time  materials  of  ash  and 
lance-wood.  But  of  late  years  new  materials  have  come  into 
use.    The  mahoe-wood  or  "  blue  mahogany  "  of  Cuba,  has 


44  SALMOKID^. 

been  found  to  combine  all  the  qualities  of  toughness,  strength, 
and  elasticity  in  a  remarkable  degree.  Of  it  the  springs  of 
volantes  are  constructed.  But  the  material  par  excellence  is 
the  bamboo  sawed  longitudinally,  with  the  separate  strips  so 
nicely  adjusted  and  fitted  together  as  to  form  an  apparently 
soHd  piece.  A  "  split  bamboo  "  rod,  such  as  is  manfactured 
by  Andrew  Gierke,  of  New  York,  possesses  equal  power 
with  any  other  rod,  and  is  from  thirty-three  to  fifty  per  cent 
lighter. 

Now,  the  creation  of  a  perfect  arch  is  the  true  philosophy 
of  rod  manufacture,  just  as  the  management  of  this  arch  in 
motion  is  the  essence  of  scientific  angling.  The  elastic  pro- 
perties of  a  rod  should  be  evenly  distributed  and  maintained 
throughout  its  length  from  tip  to  but,  so  that  when  the  rod 
is  bent,  no  variation  from  a  perfect  arch  can  be  detected. 
Metal  ferrules,  being  stiff  and  unyielding,  interfere  with  the 
proper  formation  and  play  of  the  arch ;  hence  manufacturers 
have  sought  to  obviate  the  difficulty  by  making  their  rods 
of  three  or  even  two  joints,  instead  of  four,  as  formerly. 
Some  have  connected  the  middle  joint  and  tip  by  a  spUce, 
while  others  dispense  with  the  ferrule  altogether.  The  Scrib- 
ner  rod  is  made  with  a  screw  ferrule  for  the  but  and  a  splice 
for  the  tip.  The  screw  device  renders  loop-ties  unnecessary, 
while  the  ferrule  prevents  the  joints  from  becoming  shaky 
by  wear.  Uniform  elasticity  being  secured,  the  second  requi- 
site is  stiffness — that  peculiar  power  or  force  which,  combined 
with  the  elastic  properties  of  the  wood,  produces  a  certain 
yielding  resistance  which  prevents  the  fish  from  exerting  his 
full  strength  on  the  hook,  the  leader,  or  the  line  ;  for  from 
the  moment  a  fish  is  hooked  until  he  is  landed,  the  arch  of 
the  rod,  either  longer  or  shorter,  should  be  persistently  main- 
tained ;  the  fish  should  be  killed  on  the  rod,  not  on  the  line. 
A  horse  cannot  exert  his  strength  to  advantage  with  elastic 
traces ;  neither  can  a  salmon  overcome  that  mysterious  force 
which,  ever  yielding,  never  breaks.  The  third  requisite  of  a 
perfect  rod  is  lightness.      In  this  respect,  all  other  things 


SALilOKIDiB.  45 

being  equal,  the  Andrew  Gierke  split  bamboo  of  six  splices 
asserts  and  proves  its  superiority ;  for,  while  an  ash  or  green- 
heart  rod  of  the  ordinary  length  of  seventeen  or  eighteen 
feet  will  weigh  2  lbs.  13  oz.,  a  bamboo  of  equal  length  will 
weigh  but  1  lb.  8  oz.  This  is  no  trifling  advantage  to  the 
angler  who  has  a  whole  day's  work  before  him.  As  every 
veteran  knows,  each  additional  ounce  tells  painfully  in  the 
long  run.  That  the  merits  of  the  Gierke  rod  are  reasonably 
appreciated  is  shown  by  written  testimonials  from  English 
professionals,  including  the  veteran  Frank  Buckland,  of 
"  Land  and  Water,"  who  have  laid  their  prejudices  on  the 
shelf,  and  now  regard  the  split  bamboo  as  a  sine  qua  non. 
For  myself,  I  have  used  no  other  material  for  fly-rods  for  flve 
years  past ;  and  I  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  the 
best  Ganadian  authorities  assert  that  my  salmon-rod  is  the 
finest  they  ever  saw.  Single-handed  trout-rods  of  split  bam- 
boo measure  llj  feet,  and  weigh  from  6  to  8  oz.  So  light 
and  delicate  are  they  that  one  would  thiiik  them  hardly  capa- 
ple  of  lifting  a  minnow,  and  yet  I  have  seen  them  kill  a 
four-pound  grilse !  These  rods,  it  may  be  remarked,  are  ex- 
pensive ;  but  so  are  first-class  guns,  for  which  sportsmen  are 
willing  to  pay  as  high  as  eighty  or  one  hundred  guineas. 
Best  ash  and  lancewood  or  greenheart  rods  can  be  had  for 
$20  to  $25,  while  a  baniboo  trout-rod  costs  $40,  and  a  salmon- 
rod  not  less  than  175.  Scribner,  of  St.  John,  sells  his  salmon- 
rods  for  $12.  Salmon-rods  of  21  feet  are  ponderous  aflairs, 
and  now  almost  obsolete ;  a  man  can  do  all  necessary  execu- 
tion with  a  17-foot  rod.  The  only  advantage  of  extra  length 
is,  when  a  fish  is  liors  dio  combat,  to  lift  the  line  more  easily 
over  rocks  and  boulders.  I  have  seen  a  Gierke  rod  throw  a 
measured  seventy-six  feet.  Ordinarily  forty-five  feet  of  line  is 
enough  for  any  cast.  It  is  of  great  service,  when  making  an 
unusually  long  cast,  to  count  the  time  for  your  back-line,  as 
singers  do  their  rests  in  music,  before  bringing  the  rod  for- 
ward. One  comes  to  do  it  instinctively  at  last.  It  prevents 
tangling  of  the  line  or  snapping  off  the  flies.     In  raising  a 


46  SALMOKID.^. 

long  line  from  the  water,  especially  in  a  quick  current,  it  is 
of  the  greatest  importance  to  first  bring  a  gentle  draft  upon 
it,  to  start  it,  and  then  withdraw  it  for  the  cast.  It  prevents 
the  rod  from  breaking.  Another  hint  to  beginners — invari- 
ably look  out  for  your  back  line.  See  that  you  have  suffi- 
cient casting-room  before  you  raise  your  rod ;  it  will  save 
you  the  trouble  of  climbing  trees,  and  lessen  your  premium 
for  Accident  Insurance.  Always  have  an  extra  cast  around 
your  hat,  ready  for  use.  Don't  forget  your  whiskey-flask ;  it 
keeps  out  the  cold. 

IX. 

In  making  up  an  Outfit  for  a  summer  campaign,  I  have 
found  the  articles  named  in  the  list  annexed  very  useful,  and 
most  of  them  quite  indispensable :  . 

Eods,;  reels,  lines,  flies,  bait-hooks,  trolling-tackle,  gaffs, 
*landing-iiet,  *bait-box,  *floats. 

Woolen  and  rubber  overcoats,  felt  hat,  extra  pants,  socks 
and  flannels,  old :  shoes  for  wading,  rubber  leggings,  extra 
boots,  ^slippers  or  moccasins. 

Hatchet,  knife,  pistol  and  cartridges,  screw-driver,  awl, 
pliers,  ^gimlet,  *emery,  whetstone,  twine,  *wire,  *rope, 
*leather  straps,  ^tacks. 

Needles,  pins,  thread,  wax,  *scissors,  *paper,  ^pencil,  *rub- 
ber.  ;  : 

Compass,  matches  in  a  bottle,  ffuse,  *candles,  *spring  bal- 
ance, ^corkscrew,  *pocket-pistol,  *field-glass. 

Soap,  towel,  comb,  *sponge,  *looking-glass,  ^goggles,  *hnen 
and  flannel  rags  and  raw  cotton,  to  be  used  for  cuts,  wounds, 
cleaning  guns,  mending,'  &c. " 

Pipes  and  tobacco,  .*cards,  *maps.        . 

Diarrhoea  mixture,  cathartic  pills,  *salve,  court-plaster, 
*ammonia,  sweet  oil,  *fly  and  insect  preventive. 

Wire  gridiron,  coffee-pot,  frying-pan,  tin  cup,  salt  and.  pep- 
per box,  tin  plate. 


SALMOI^ID^.  47 

An  india-rubber  bag  to  hold  the  "kit"  is  a  desirable  addi- 
tion to  an  outfit,  as  it  makes  a  portable  package,  and  keeps 
its  contents  always  dry.  In  summer  a  canvas  camp-stretcher, 
three  feet  by  six,  with  hems  on  each  side  for  inserting  poles, 
to  rest  on  logs  or  crotches  at  any  required  height  from  the 
ground,  makes  a  bed  preferable  to  hemlock  boughs.  It  is 
cooler,  gives  better  circulation  of  air,  and  is  a  protection 
against  creeping  insects.  Moreover,  it  can  be  used  as  a  wrap- 
per for  the  rubber  bag,  to  prevent  its  being  torn. 

IN'ow,  here  are  some  eighty  different  articles,  conducing 
greatly  to  the  comfort  of  camp  life,  which  can  be  packed  up 
in  small  compass  and  carried  on  the  back.  Of  course  the 
sportsman  will  be  governed  in  his  selection  by  the  length  of 
his  campaign.  If  he  desire  to  travel  as  light  as  possible,  and 
has  knowledge  of  woodcraft  available,  he  can  dispense  with 
those  marked  with  an  asterisk  (*),  He  can  even  forego  the 
luxury  of  cooking  and  table  utensils,  saving  the  frying-pan 
and  coffee-pot.  •  Birch-bark  will  supply  him  with  fresh,  clean 
plates  and  cups  at  every  meal,  with  no  trouble  to  wash  them ; 
he  can  broil  his  meat  on  a  stick,  and  bake  his  fish  and  bread 
in  the  ashes.  Cedar-roots  will  furnish  him  with  twine  and 
rope ;  he  can  tear  up  his  shirt  for  towels  and  handkerchiefs, 
and  use  liis  coat-skirts  to  make  seats  for  his  trowsers. "  He 
might  even  forego  soap,  and  leave  his  hair  unkempt  till  civil- 
ization dawned  again  upon  his  semi-savage  mood.  But  knife, 
compass,  matches  and  his  pipe — these  are  wholly  indispensa- 
ble. Upon  them  his  existence,  comfort,  and  happiness  de- 
pend. .  ,  •  , 

What !  forego  the  luxury  of  a  pipe  ? .  JVot  much. ,  "Would 
you  ask  the  sportsman,  after  he  has  dragged  himself  into 
camp,  fatigued  by  an  all-day  tramp,  drenched  by  soaking 
rain,  a-hungered,  and  thirsting  for  something  hot  to  drink, 
sitting  alone  in  the  ^  sombre  fastnesses  of  a  pitch-pine  soh- 
tude,  with  ardent  longings  for  the  blazing  hearth  of  home, 
and  vain  regrets  that  he  had  ever  wandered — would  you, 
could  you  ask  him  to  forego  the  luxury  of  a  pipe  ?    Would 


48  SALMOKID^. 

you  dare,  then  and  there,  taking  him  in  his  ascetic  mood, 
read  him  a  homily  on  the  noxious  properties  of  tobacco  and 
the  vice  of  smoking,  and  urge  him  to  put  out  his  pipe  for- 
ever ?  Ah !  there  is  something  in  a  pipe  that  provides  a  sol- 
ace for  miscellaneous  woes,  and  smooths  the  path  of  daily 
discontent. 

My  briar-wood  pipe  is  my  wannest  of  friends, 

Its  heart  is  aglow  and  its  excellence  lends 

A  solace  and  joy  to  my  innermost  soul, 

As  the  incense  floats  off  from  the  ash-cinctured  bowl. 

In  the  smoke-wreaths  circling  upward  little  waifs  of  philoso- 
phy hover  with  shadowy  form,  and  smiling  benignantly 
down,  bid  us  be  patient,  and  help  us  to  endure. 

In  the  selection  of  provisions  one  must  be  governed  by  cir- 
cumstances. Tea  or  coffee,  flour,  ham,  salt  pork,  soda  pow- 
der, salt  and  pepper,  in  quantities  required,  are  all  that  is 
absolutely  necessary.  Potatoes  and  onions  or  pickles  are  an 
excellent  relish ;  and  a  city-bred  man  can  hardly  do  without 
butter.  It  is  well  to  avoid  overloading,  even  when  traveling 
on  horseback  or  with  a  canoe.  Much  time  and  inconven- 
ience are  thereby  saved,  especially  where  portages  or  "  car- 
ries "  have  'to  be  made.  Eubber  boots  are  a  nuisance,  and 
should  be  left  at  home.  Experience  will  convince  the  ang- 
ler that  hob-nail  shoes  are  far  more  serviceable,  if  either 
must  be  carried.  For  myself  I  prefer  my  cast-off  shoes  for 
wading  and  for  general  use,  if  supplemented  by  a  stout  pair 
of  tight  cowhide  boots  with  broad  soles.  I  also  prefer  warm 
cast-off  clothing  to  fancy  suits  of  velveteen,  corduroy,  or 
frieze.  One  has  this  advantage,  that  he  can  throw  them 
away  when  he  has  done  with  them,  or  give  them  to  his  In- 
dians or  voyageurs,  and  thus  go  home  light,  with  little  to 
carry  beside  his  kit  and  the  suit  on  his  back.  The  expense 
of  a  cruise  will  seldom  be  less  than  three  dollars  per  day. 
Indians  demand  from  a  dollar  to  two  dollars  a  day  and 
found.    Their  services  include  the  canoe.    Canadian  wages 


SALMOKTD^.  49 

are  higher,  and  the  cost  of  a  "shallop"  varies  according  to 
the  conscience  of  the  owner.  It  is  cheaper  to  buy  a  horse 
and  sell  him  again  than  to  hire  one,  that  is,  if  you  wish  to 
use  him  several  weeks.  In  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Bruns- 
wick wagons  can  be  hired  at  $1.50  per  day.  Adirondack 
guides  demand  $2.50  per  day  and  upwards. 

The  best  preventive  against  black  flies  and  other  noxious 
insects  is  a  mixture  of  sweet  oil  and  tar  in  proportions  of  four 
to  one.  It  is  perfectly  effectual  and  not  unpleasant  or  nasty, 
as  many  persons  imagine.  Ammonia  alleviates  pain,  and 
removes  the  poison  of  insect  bites. 

Camp-sites  should  be  selected  for  their  access  to  wood  and 
water,  and  immunity  from  insects.  Sandy  beaches  or  grav- 
elly points  are  liable  to  swarm  with  midges  or  punkies,  and 
the  thicker  woods  with  musquitoes.  Points  where  a  breeze 
draws  up  or  down  the  river  are  the  most  desirable.  Black 
flies  do  not  molest  between  sunset  and  sunrise.  The  camp- 
ground being  chosen,  duties  should  be  as  equally  divided  as 
possible,  and  assigned.  The  first  duties  are  to  fix  the  shel- 
ter, cut  wood,  and  "get  the  kettle  boiHng."  The  person 
who  cooks  should  never  be  required  to  cut  the  wood. 

Tents  are  a  great  comfort  when  they  can  be  conveniently 
carried,  or  when  the  camp  is  to  be  frequently  changed  with- 
out making  long  stages  ;  as,  for  instance,  when  fishing  the 
successive  pools  of  a  salmon  stream.  However,  a  good  artist, 
with  hatchet  and  knife,  will  put  up  in  one  day  a  permanent 
camp  that  will  be  storm-proof.  As  for  temporary  make- 
shifts they  can  be  made  of  birch  or  hemlock  bark  (when  it 
will  peel)  or  brush,  laid  on  crotch  poles ;  or,  for  the  matter 
of  a  night,  a  screen  of  spruce  boughs  to  windward,  or  the 
canoe  turned  over  to  protect  the  chest  and  shoulders  from 
dew  and  morning  fogs.  The  lee  of  a  projecting  ledge,  with 
a  brush  screen,  is  a  dry  and  comfortable  camp,  even  in  cold 
weather.  I  prefer  it  when  I  can  get  it ;  otherwise,  the  canoe, 
or  a  half-tent  made  of  my  rubber  blanket.  I  have  slept  out 
three  months  at  a  time,  and  have  never  used  a  canvas  tent 
4 


50  SALMOI^ID^. 

in  my  life.  One  who  knows  how  can  always  make  himself 
comfortable  in  the  woods  even  in  mid-winter. 

In  traveling  through  unfamiliar  districts,  it  is  important 
to  turn  frequently  and  survey  the  ground  behind,  especially 
if  one  expects  to  retrace  his  steps.  A  locality  looks  entire- 
ly different  according  to  the  direction  traveled.  It  is  also 
prudent  to  "  blaze"  the  route  by  occasionally  scoring  a  tree 
or  breaking  a  bush  or  twig.  In  following  a  blind  trail,  the 
eye  should  always  run  casually  in  advance.  If  it  is  cast  down 
directly  in  front,  the  sign  is  lost ;  if  raised,  the  trail  becomes 
as  plain  as  the  milky-way  in  the  heavens.  There  is  scarcely 
anything  visible  in  the  woods  until  one  learns  to  see.  Stand 
still  for*  a  moment  in  the  silence  and  apparent  solitude,  and 
presently  a  chipmunk  will  start  up  from  almost  every 
leafj^and  woodpeckers  peer  cautiously  from  behind  each 
tree. 

One  never  should  be  without  a  compass.  In  some  per- 
sons, animal  magnetism  is  so  strong  that  they  determine  the 
cardinal  points  instinctively.  Indeed  there  are  individuals 
who  cannot  sleep  with  their  heads  to  the  south,  but  instantly 
detect  a  bed  so  situated.  Backwoodsmen  acquire  by  practice 
and  careful  observation,  a  certain  craft  in  reading  signs  which 
is  almost  infallible.  As  a  rule,  but  not  always,  moss  grows 
more  densely  on  the  north  side  of  trees,  nature  providing 
against  the  cold  that  comes  from  that  quarter.  But  a  more 
reliable  sign  is  the  limbs  of  trees,  which  grow  longest  on 
the  south  side,  those  on  the  north  side  being  exposed  to  the 
wintry  blasts  which  twist  and  scathe  and  stunt  them.  A 
laurel  swamp  is  the  worst  conceivable  place  in  which  to  get 
lost,  and  having  once  got  into  a  scrape  the  surest  method  of 
escape  is  immediately  to  follow  the  back-track  out.  In  all 
cases,  when  a  man  discovers  himself  lost,  he  should  stop 
short,  and  carefully  consider  the  situation — ^the  position  of 
the  sun,  direction  of  the  wind,  character  of  adjacent  promi- 
nent objects,  &c.,  and  then  retrace  his  steps  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible.    As  a  general  thing,  he  has  never  gone  far  before  he 


SALMONID^.  61 

discovers  his  mistake.  A  quarter  of  a  mile  in  a  jungle  or 
strange  forest  seems  a  great  distance.  Rivers  and  streams 
are  certain  highways  to  dehverance  provided  a  person  has 
previously  some  idea  of  the  general  "lay  of  the  land." 
There  is  an  advantage  in  traveling  alone,  though  gentlemen 
socially  inclined  will  prefer  a  companion.  As  two  Indians 
or  voyageurs  are  required  with  a  canoe,  this  makes  a  large 
enough  party ;  and  in  most  other  circumstances,  one's  guide 
is  suflficent  company.  A  single  person  can  usually  get  a 
"lift"  by  the  way,  a  seat  at  a  backwoodsman's  table,  or  a  cor- 
ner to  sleep  in,  when  two  or  more  would  be  refused.  There 
is  always  room  for  "  one  more,"  but  not  for  a  crowd. 

X. 

It  becomes  the  second  nature  of  a  thorough  sportsman  to 
note  carefully  all  that  transpires  around  him.  His  pursuits 
and  associations  make  him  a  close  student  of  natural  history. 
By  personal  contact  and  observation  he  becomes  thoroughly 
conversant  with  the  habits  and  peculiarities  of  the  creatures 
he  pursues.  He  familiarizes  himself  with  their  haunts.  He 
gathers  knowledge  from  every  leaf,  finds  instructive  sermons 
in  stones,  secrets  in  the  babbling  brooks,  and  practical  les- 
sons of  wisdom  in  everything.  To  him  the  Book  of  Nature 
is  an  open  revelation.  From  the  crude  materials  which  the 
wilderness  supphes,  he  learns  to  draw  comfort  for  the  body 
and  aliment  for  the  mind.  Torrid  heat  and  Arctic  cold 
have  no  formidable  terrors  for  him  whose  manhood  has  been 
toughened  by  the  hardships  of  out-of-door  sports.  He  snaps 
his  fingers  at  vicissitudes  which  would  appal  those  hearth-rug 
knights  whose  inherent  vitality  has  been  quickened  by  sim- 
ple toast'  and  tea.  His  enthusiastic  love  of  adventure  leads 
him  far  away  from  the  beaten  paths  of  civilization  to  the  ut- 
most confines  of  the  habitable  globe.  Oftentimes  he  finds 
himself  the  pioneer  explorer  of  regions  previously  considered 
terras  incognitas.    It  would  not  be  diflficult  to  prove  that  a 


52  salmo:n^id^. 

moiety  of  the  geographical  and  scientific  researches  and  dis- 
coveries of  the  globe  are  due  to  sportsmen — sportsmen  in  the 
truest  acceptation  of  the  word — heroes  who  have  defied  the 
scathing  heats  of  Africa,  bored  into  the  penetralia  of  the 
frigid  zone,  cruised  on  the  Stygian  waters  of  the  Colorado,  "or 
cUmbed  the  diyiding  ridge  of  a  great  continent,  and  from  its 
summit  viewed  two  oceans.  Of  such  stern  stuff  was  Audu- 
bon, the  hunter  naturalist,  who  assumed  habits  as  hardy  and 
simple  as  those  of  the  wild  creatures  themselves,  that  he 
might  mingle  with  them  and  read  them  in  their  freedom. 
Of  such  was  Lord  Dufferin,  who  left  his  couch  of  luxurious 
ease  and  in  his  own  yacht  penetrated  far  into  the  hyper- 
borean realm,  defying  the  elements,  and  enduring  the  piti- 
less breath  of  an  Arctic  atmosphere. 

Conned  over  in  the  privacy  of  one's  inner  thoughts,  the 
chequered  experiences  of  the  sportsman's  life  oft  take  shape 
in  words  which,  transformed  to  paper  by  aid  of  press  and  ink, 
do  make  a  book.  Kecorded  in  the  simple  language  of  truth, 
these  homely  annals  of  the  wilderness  constitute  a  staple  of 
manly  hterature  which  need  not  shame  the  authors.  Where 
shall  be  found  such  speaking  photographs  of  forest  life  as  are 
dehneated  in  the  stupendous  and  magnificent  works  of  Au- 
dubon ?  or  such  a  combination  of  the  aesthetic  and  beautiful 
as  appears  in  Bethune's  Walton  ?  The  experiences  of  Hum- 
boldt, Kane,  Herbert,  Lord  Dufferin,  Mungo  Park,  Koss 
Brown,  Agassiz,  Cnmmings,  Gerard,  Baker,  Livingstone, 
Prime,  Trollope,  Cozzens,  and  hosts  of  others,  are  they  not 
written  in  living  characters  that  do  honor  to  the  name  of 
sportsman  ?  These  furnish  a  mental  pabulum  far  more  en- 
tertaining and  instructive  than  the  scrannel  notes  of  so-called 
literature  upon  which  modem  fashionable  society  gorges  it- 
self. 

Sportsmen  become  authors  almost  perforce  of  circum- 
stances which  they  themselves  create.  Chock-full  of  informa- 
tion obtained  by  personal  research,  and  glorying  in  new  discov- 
eries by  land  or  sea,  it  is  as  natural  for  them  to  publish  to  the 


SALMOKID^.  53 

world  in  books  the  story  of  their  experiences  and  investiga- 
tions, as  to  recount  their  marvelous  adventures  and  hair- 
breadth escapes  to  eager  listeners  within  the  magic  circle  of 
the  camp-fire.  If  egoism  is  a  prominent  trait  or  blemish  in 
the  sportsman's  character,  I  crave  for  him  the  indulgence  of 
a  pardon  freely  given. 

Though  his  avowed  pursuits,  be  slaughter,  and  the  taint  of 
blood  be  on  his  -clothes,  the  sportsman  is  never  cruel.  He 
hunts  not  for  the  mere  enjoyment  of  taking  innocent  life, 
nor  to  multiply  trophies ;  his  impulses  are  those  of  calm  and 
clear  intellection.  With  him  the  joy  of  free  roving,  of  battle 
with  the  elements,  of  pure  air,  of  sunshine  and  of  storm,  of 
penetrating  the  secrets  of  nature,  and  of  successfully  circum- 
venting nature's  cunning  by  artful  counter- wiles — these  are 
the  nobler  purposes.  He  never  feeds  his  passion  to  satiety ; 
he  is  rather  the  conservator  of  the  creatures  he  pursues. 
Self-interest  makes  him  their  champion  and  preserver.  He 
has  learned  that  he  must  not  only  protect  them,  but  assist 
the  natural  processes  of  reproduction  if  he  would  secure  a 
continuance  of  his  favorite  pastime.  He  recognizes  their 
true  value  in  the  respective  spheres  they  fill.  He  rigidly  dis- 
criminates between  those  that  are  noxious  and  those  ^at  are 
harmless.  Vermin  he  slaughters;  but  he  lays  no  violent 
hand  on  the  songsters  and  those  other  creatures  which  famil- 
iar intercourse  and  study  have  taught  him  render  invaluable 
service  as  scavengers  and  as  aids  to  the  husbandman,  even 
though  some  of  them  take  liberal  toll  from  the  farmers' 
crops.  He  makes  the  laws  of  nature  his  rule  of  conduct,  and 
subordinates  his  desires  thereto;  he  holds  stated  seasons 
sacred  to  the  work  of  propagation.  He  captures  and  kills 
only  after  prescribed  modes,  and  scrupulously  spares  the 
young.  He  regards  the  offender  against  these  reasonable 
and  judicious  ordinances  as  his  enemy,  and  is  not  merciful 
in  passing  judgment  upon  him. 

It  is  only  within  a  few  years  that  the  true  character  and 
good  offices  of  sportsmen  have  begun  to  be  properly  appre- 


54 


SALMONID^. 


dated  in  this  country.  They  have  been  confounded  with 
the  ignoble  band  of  prowlers,  poachers  and  pot-hunters,  who 
are  most  potent  in  scouring  the  country  of  everything  that 
flies,  leaps,  or  swims.  Let  us  hereafter  do  him  justice,  ac- 
knowledge his  worth,  and  accord  to  him  that  position  he 
deserves.  We  will  esteem  him  for  his  aesthetic  tastes,  and  his 
selection  of  a  pastime  which  invigorates,  humanizes,  educates, 
and  ennobles — which  hardens  the  muscles  and  stimulates  the 
brain. 

"  'Tis  not  from  books  alone  Thought's  pleasures  flow — 
They  are  but  aqueducts  which  serve  to  bring 
The  stream  direct  (meandering  else  but  slow,) 

As  fresh  it  wells  from  Pierian  spring ; 
But  who  would  taste  it  pure  at  times  must  fling 

His  books  aside,  and  turn  to  Nature's  page, 
Open  alike  to  peasant,  prince,  and  king — 
To  man  untaught  as  well  as  learned  sage, 
And  mid  its  lessons  deep  his  ardent  thoughts  engage." 


PART   II 


LONG    ISLAND. 


'HE  waters  of  Long.  Island  are  familiar  to  few  beside 
the  anglers  of  New  York  and  vicinity,  and  although 
^  _  extolled  by  them,  would  hardly  be  appreciated,  I 
^  fear,  by  the  brotherhood  at  large.  The  most  expert 
disciple  of  Izaak  Walton  may  have  wet  his  line  in 
many  a  mountain  lake  and  stream,  or  purling  meadow-brook, 
and  still  have  much  to  learn  if  he  has  never  thrown  a  fly 
where  the  saline  breezes  blow  over  the  salt  marshes  of  the 
famed  "  South  Side,"  or  attended  the  roysterous  opening  of 
the  season  on  the  15th  of  March.  For  thus  early,  while  in- 
terior streams  are  bound  by  Winter's  fetters,  and  snow-drifts 
mount  the  fences,  the  waters  of  Long  Island  have  been 
released  by  a  more  southern  sun  and  the  tempering  breezes 
of  ocean.  The  ebb  and  flow  of  tide  have  purged  them  of 
snow-water,  and  the  eager  trout,  after  his  long  Lenten  sea- 
son, is  glorious  game  for  the  sportsman. 

Long  Island  is  said  to  resemble  a  fish  in  shape — a  remark- 
able delineation  of  its  physical  character.  Gotham  experts 
deem  it  the  finest  trouting  region  in  the  world  for  scientific 
anglers,  because  none  but  skillful  rods  can  take  the  fish  of 
itstcreeks  and  streams.  Worthy  members  of  the  brother- 
hood who  are  wont  to  steal  a  march  upon  the  Culex  family 
in  their  annual  trips  to  the  north,  may  have  taken  at  times 
their  fifty  pounds  of  trout  per  diem  in  Adirondack  or  Cana- 


58  •     LONG   ISLAND. 

dian  waters ;  but  how  can  such  cheaply  earned  success  com- 
pare for  sport  with  the  capture  of  a  good  half-dozen  fish  in 
waters  where  a  tyro  could  not,  perchance,  provoke  a  single 
rise  ?  For,  be  it  known.  Long  Island  trout  are  educated. 
They  are  not  only  connoisseurs  in  taste  and  epicures  in  diet, 
but  quick  to  detect  a  fraud ;  they  have  been  taught  in  the 
metropolitan  school  which  "  cuts  eye-teeth."  The  marshy 
brinks  of  their  brackish  realm  are  as  bare  of  cover  as  a  floor, 
affording  no  screen  for  stealthy  approach.  The  most  delicate 
tackle,  a  long  line  deftly  cast,  with  flies  that  drop  as  snow- 
flakes  on  the  unbroken  surface — these  are  the  sole  conditions 
of  success.  The  application  of  my  remarks  is  to  creek-fish- 
ing only — to  the  outlets  of  streams  which  head  in  hmpid 
ponds,  whence,  tumbling  over  artificial  dams,  and  purhng 
under  spreading  willows,  they  wind  through  sinuous  chan- 
nels to  the  Sound  or  Ocean.  Of  course  the  tide  ebbs  and 
flows  in  them,  and  the  water  is  salt ;  but  the  trout  are  never- 
theless the  genuine  speckled  beauties  of  the  mountains,  in 
full  livery  of  blue  and  crimson,  and  much  improved  in  flavor 
by  their  access  to  the  sea.  They  run  in  and  out  with  the 
tide,  and  it  is  said  that  specimens  have  been  taken  in  nets  in 
the  bays,  three  or  four  miles  from  shore.  In  these  creeks 
one  may  angle  without  let  or  hindrance,  though  fall  baskets 
cannot  be  expected.  To  no  others  have  I  the  right  to  invite 
the  indiscriminate  public.  But  there  are  magnificent  pre- 
serves and  private  ponds,  where  full-fed  monster  trout  can  be 
caught  by  the  score  from  boat  or  bank  by  inexperts,  provided 
they  have  access  thereto  by  proprietary  indulgence,  or  the 
"open  sesame"  of  personal  acquaintance. 

Notwithstanding  the  insular  position  of  Long  Island,  and 
the  sandy  character  of  its  soil,  which  extends  in  areas  of  bar- 
ren plain  over  thousands  of  acres,  its  entire  surface  is  diver- 
sified by  ponds  and  extensive  swamps,  which  send  forth  copi- 
ous streams,  clear,  cold,  and  sparkling.  There  are  no  less 
than  seventy  of  these  streams.  Most  of  them  afford  abun- 
dant mill  privileges,  and  some  have  been  used  as  mill -sites 


LONG  ISLAN"D.-  59 

for  two  hundred  years.  The  Peconic  River  is  the  longest, 
measuring  fifteen  miles.  These  take  their  rise  not  only  in 
the  central  dividing  ridge,  but  all  along  both  shores  above 
and  below  the  line  of  high  water-mark,  though  they  are 
most  numerous  upon  the  south  side.  Nearly  all  abound  in 
trout.  The  most  celebrated  are  Success  Pond,  Ronkonkoma, 
Coram,  Great  Pond,  Fort  Pond,  KilHs  Pond,  and  the  con- 
siderable bodies  of  water  at  Smithtown,  Carman's,  Islip,  Pat- 
chogue,  and  Oyster  Bay.  Great  Pond  is  two  miles  long,  and 
Ronkonkoma  a  mile  and  a  half. 

The  unusual  facilities  and  attractions  which  these  waters 
afford  to  sportsmen  were  recognized  a  century  ago.  The  best 
localities  were  quickly  appropriated  by  private  individuals, 
who  improved  and  stocked  them  at  considerable  expense, 
and  leased  fishing  privileges  to  city  sportsmen  at  a  fixed  rate 
per  diem,  or  $1  per  pound  for  all  fish  taken.  Several  were 
subsequently  secured  by  clubs,  who  laid  out  ornamental 
grounds,  built  spacious  club-houses,  and  added  largely  to  the 
original  stock  offish.  The  principal  of  these  is  the  ^outh  Side 
Club,  near  Islip,  which  comprises  a  hundred  or  more  members. 
But  there  is  a  coterie  of  fifteen  gentlemen,  who  enjoy  at 
Smithtown  the  use  of  angling  privileges  equal  to  those  of  a 
majority  of  the  private  preserves.  They  have  four  ponds,  of 
which  the  chief  are  Phillips'  Pond  and  Stump  Pond.  The 
former  is  noted  for  its  big  fish.  Their  domain  is  an  old- 
fashioned  farm,  which  literally  flows  with  milk  and  honey. 
There  are  orchards  that  bend  with  fruit  in  its  season,  and 
with  congregated  turkeys  always  in  the  still  watches  of  the 
night.  Great  willow  trees  environ  the  house,  and  through 
their  loosely  swaying  branches  the  silvery  moon  may  be 
seen  glistening  on  the  ponds.  Through  a  wicket-gate  and 
under  overarching  grape-vines  a  path  leads  to  the  "  Lodge," 
within  whose  smoke-grimed  precincts  none  but  the  elect 
may  come.  Its  walls  are  hung  with  coats  and  old  felt 
hats,  and  suits  of  water-proof,  with  creels  and  rods,  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  and  complex  gear  of  a  sportsman's  reper- 


60  LOKG  ISLAND. 

toire.  Cosy  lounges  invite  the  weary ;  there  are  pipes  and 
glasses  for  those  who  wish  them ;  and  in  the  centre  of  the 
room  a  huge  square  stove  emits  a  radiant  glow.  In  the  cool 
of  April  evenings,  when  the  negro  boy  has  crammed  it  full 
of  wood,  and  the  smoke  from  reeking  pipes  ascends  in  clouds, 
this  room  resounds  with  song  and  story,  and  many  a  stirring 
experience  of  camp  and  field.  No  striphngs  gather  here. 
Some  who  stretch  their  legs  around  that  stove  are  battle- 
scarred.  Others  have  grown  gray  since  they  learned  the 
rudimehts  of  the  "gentle  art."  Might  I  with  propriety 
mention  names  I  could  introduce  a  royal  party.  To-morrow 
they  will  whip  the  ponds,  and  wade  the  connecting  streams; 
and  when  their  brief  campaign  is  ended,  you  will  see  them 
wending  cityward  with  hampers  filled  with  trout  nicely 
packed  in  ice  and  moss. 

Of  private  ponds  the  most  famous  and  richly  stocked  are 
Maitland's  Pond,  near  Islip,  and  the  Massapiqua  Pond  at 
Oyster  Bay.  Nearly  all  the  ponds  throughout  the  island  lie 
along  the  main  highways,  in .  many  cases  separated  from  the 
road  only  by  a  fragile  fence,  but  jealously  guarded  by  tres- 
pass notices,  dogs,  and  keepers;  and  it  has  not  infrequently 
happened  that  some  neophyte  uninitiated  into  the  mysteries 
and  prerogatives  of  Long  Island  fishing,  has  innocently 
cHmbed  the  fence,  and  tossed  his  fly  into  the  forbidden  wa- 
ters—whereby  and  in  consequence  hang  tales  of  "withered 
hopes,"  not  to  be  repeated  except  on  chilly  evenings  in  the 
ruddy  glow  of  a  blazing  wood-fire,  and  then  sotto  voce. 

In  those  earlier  days  of  undeveloped  locomotion,  when  the 
Long  Island  Eailroad  was. the  grand  highway  between  New 
York  and  Boston,  the  only  means  of  access  to  either  side  was 
by  occasional  cart-paths  that  traversed  the  intervening  plains. 
Over  these  barren  wastes  hearse-like  vehicles  made  quotidian 
trips  from  the  railroad  stations.  From  Farmingdale  to  River- 
head,  throughout  an  area  forty  milesby  six  in  extent,  scarcely 
a  house  or  cultivated  patch  was  seen.  The  only  growth  was 
scrub  oak  and  stunted  pine,  through  which  devastating  fires 


LONG  ISLAND.  61 

ran  periodically.  Into  the  yielding  sand  the  wheels  cut 
deeply,  and  the  journey,  short  as  the  distance  was,  seemed 
slow  and  tedious.  Those  who  now  gain  easy  access  to  either 
side  by  the  railroad  facilities  provided,  have  small  conception 
of  the  discomforts  of  the  olden  time.  It  is  difficult  to  realize 
the  magnitude  of  the  improvements  made.  Once  across  the 
line  that  circumscribes  these  wastes,  and  the  scene  changes, 
as  if  by  magic,  to  one  of  thrift  and  plenty.  Bursting  barns, 
capacious  farm-houses,  and  smihng  fields  attest  the  exuber- 
ance of  the  soil.  City  merchants  and  gentlemen  retired 
from  business  have  seized  upon  the  choicest  spots  within  a 
distance  of  fifty  miles  from  town,  and  made  them  attractive 
with  every  modern  innovation  and  appliance.  Even  portions 
of  the  barren  wastes,  which  were  regarded  of  trifling  value, 
have  been  reclaimed,  and  now  "  bloom  and  blossom  as  the 
rose."  On  every  hand  are  stately  mansions,  back  from  whose 
well-kept  lawns  and  embowering  shrubbery  stretch  acres  of 
farm,  garden  and  nursery,  all  under  highest  cultivation. 
There  are  conservatories  filled  with  rarest  plants.  Graperies 
blushing  in  their  fulne^  of  purple  and  crimson,  expose  their 
crystal  facades  to  the  southern  sun.  There  are  trout  ponds, 
whose  cost  to  form  was  by  no  means  insignificant,  with  ar- 
bors and  kiosks  dotting  their  grassy  banks,  wild-fowl  dis- 
porting along  their  margins,  and  pleasure-boats  floating  list- 
lessly at  their  moorings.  There  are  princely  barns  and  car- 
riage-houses, and  stables  fiUed  with  imported  stock.  Sub- 
urban mansions  of  the  city  have  been  set  down  quietly 
among  the  antiquated  houses,  quaint  mills,  shops,  and  coun- 
try stores  of  the  primitive  inhabitants.  New  ideas  and 
modes  of  dress  and  living  have  been  sown  among  the  simple- 
minded,  yet  there  seems  no  jealousy  or  clash  of  interests.  The 
thrifty  housewife  in  cap  and  gown  and  guileless  of  hoops, 
looks  out  from  beneath  the  yellow  ears  of  corn  and  strings 
of  dried  apples  hung  on  her  tenter-hooks,  to  the  modern  im- 
provements of  her  neighbor,  and  sighs  not  for  his  flesh-pots 
or  his  finery.    Her  "  old  man,"  in  rustic  garb  and  cowhides, 


62  LONG   ISLAND. 

"  talks  horse "  with  the  fast  young  men  who  drive  down  in 
sulkies,  and  listens  with  some  show  of  respectful  attention  to 
the  "chaff"  of  sportsmen  in  the  tavern  bar-rooms.  He 
hears  the  respective  merits  of  rival  rods  and  guns  tenaciously 
extolled,  and  politely  nods  assent  when  appealed  to  by  the 
earnest  disputants ;  but  he  seldom  puts  his  "  oar  "  in.  These 
httle  technicalities  do  not  concern  him  much. 

Has  not  the  city-bred  reader,  while  aestivating  in  some  inland 
farm-house,  often  longed  for  the  httle  delicacies  and  conven- 
iences of  the  city  which  were  lacking  there,  desiring  that  de- 
lectable combination  of  urls  in  rure  which  would  make  per- 
fection— a  dash  of  champagne  and  oysters  with  his  fresh  eggs 
and  milk,  for  instance  ?  Well,  if  it  be  possible  to  find  that 
rare  union  anywhere,  it  is  on  the  famed  "South  Side." 
There  are  fresh  veal  cutlets,  hog  and  hominy,  beef,  biscuit, 
butter,  eggs,  milk,  all  raised  or  made  upon  the  place  and  un- 
polluted by  huckster  or  market-man ;  luscious  trout  fresh 
from  their  element,  with  fried  eggs,  shad  and  flounders ;  broad- 
bill  ducks,  snipes  and  plover;  sponge-cake,  doughnuts  and 
sparkling  cider  of  the  best  selected  apples.  And  the  rarest 
luxuries  of  the  New  York  market  are  within  easy  reach !  The 
table  cutlery  is  unexceptionable,  and  the  china  innocent  of 
the  omnipresent  country  blue.  An  attentive  black  boy 
serves  you.  The  guests  are  of  the  class,  in  fact  often  the 
same  persons,  one  meets  at  the  Clarendon  or  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  there  is  no  smell  of  the  barnyard  or  musty  boots  be- 
neath the  mahogany.  And  yet  the  room,  the  furniture,  the 
house  and  its  appointments,  are  all  of  the  primitive  country 
style.  It  is  the  same  quaint  old  structure  of  seventy  years 
ago  with  its  hugh  fire-place  where  the  great  back-log  flames 
and  smoulders.  There  are  the  same  diminutive  window 
panes,  the  low  ceiling,  and  elaborate  wainscoting ;  the  laby- 
rinth of  passages,  staircases,  and  pantries ;  the  tall  Dutch 
clock  in  the  corner,  the  stiff-backed  chairs  and  the  mantel 
ornaments  of  stuffed  birds  and  marine  curiosities.  Over  the 
bar-room  door,  beneath  the  porch,  is  the  head  and  antlers 


LONG   ISLAND.  63 

of  a  Long  Island  deer — one  of  the  tribe  of  which  a  few  are 
still  left  to  roam  the  scrubby  waste  lands  of  the  Plains. 
This  is  a  simple  pen-picture  of  the  sportsman's  rendezvous 
on  this  "  sea-girt  isle." 

Starting  out  betimes,  when  the  tide,  serves  right,  we 
anglers  follow  a  narrow  lane  that  leads  to  the  marshes  be- 
yond, and  leaping  an  old  rail-fence  stride  forth  upon  the  flats. 
Before  us  stretches  a  wide  expanse  sere  and  brown,  bounded 
in  the  distance  by  the  blue  ocean  on  which  a  single  white 
sail  is  making  an  offing.  There  is  nothing  else  to  break  the 
dreary  monotony  save  the  distant  masts  of  a  couple  of  large 
fishing-smacks  which  are  high  and  dry  upon  the  banks  of 
the  creek  in  which  we  are  to  fish.  The  cold  wind  blows  in 
our  faces  sharply,  and  whistles  through  our  delicate  fishing- 
tackle  now  rigged  and  ready  for  use,  and  each  heavy  tramp 
falls  with  a  squelch  and  a  splash  on  the  marsh,  and  the  short, 
crisp,  salt  grass  whisks  up  the  blue  ooze  high  on  our  boots. 
Is  this  the  poetry  of  the  gentle  art  ? 

Ah !  here  is  the  creek  at  last.  Whew !  how  the  wind 
drives  through  its  broad,  deep  channel,  and  throws  up  the 
waves  against  its  muddy  banks  with  a  cold  goblin  chuckle! 
What  a  cast  of  the  fly !  Away  it  whisks,  clear  over  the  creek, 
and  lodges  upon  the  opposite  bank.  Foot  by  foot  we  cover 
the  creek  as  we  make  our  frequent  casts,  but  yet  no  rise.  At 
length  we  take  one  trout  at  the  bend — a  small  one ;  after  a 
while  another ;  anon  another,  a  little  larger  than  the  rest. 
But,  bless  me  if  I  hke  this  sport !  This  is  not  the  trout 
fishing  I  fancy.  In  my  mind  this  pastime  and  the  dark 
forest,  the  whirling  eddy,  and  the  tumbling  torrent  are  ever  in- 
separable. I  would  cautiously  toss  my  fly  under  yon  moss- 
covered  stump  that  throws  its  shadow  over  that  pool,  and 
with  drawn  breath  await  the  magnetic  thrill  which  I  know 
will  stir  my  nerves.  I  would  trail  it  lightly  across  that 
circling  eddy  just  below  the  sparkling  foam,  or  cast  it  under 
that  rocky  arch  where  the  water  is  black  and  still.  I  would 
pause  betimes,  that  the  eye  might  measure  the  lofty  columns 


64  LONG   ISLAND. 

of  those  towering  hemlocks,  or  penetrate  into  the  leafy  recesses 
of  the  darksome  forest.  I  would  watch  the  sun-j9.ecks  on  the 
water,  or  the  tremulous  leaves  of  overarching  trees  reflected 
on  the  crystal  pool.  My  feet  would  fain  press  the  silky  grass 
that  thrives  in  shade  and  spray,  where  the  cascade  tumbles 
into  the  ravine.  Here  I  listen  in  vain  for  the  woodpecker's 
tap  or  the  harsh  voice  of  the  bluejay.  There  is  no  hum  of 
bees  or  rasp  of  "  saw-cuts  "  at  work  in  the  decaying  log.  All 
is  dead,  and  cold,  and  drear.  The  efiluvium  floats  up  from 
the  salt  marsh,  and  two  wild  ducks  are  winging  their  way  to 
the  ponds  beyond. 

Ah  well !  this  is  a  raw  April  day,  and  perchance  its  chilly 
breath  has  penetrated  my  soul.  Very  different  is  Long 
Island  pond-fishing  in  June,  when  the  air  is  warm  and  balmy. 
But  it  is  the  fashion  among  the  experts  of  Gotham  to  take  the 
early  fishing  here,  and  one  had  "  better  be  dead  than  out  of 
the  fashion."  I  have  heard  it  told  of  ambitious  anglers  who 
ventured  to  inaugurate  the  season  on  the  1st  of  March,  and 
found  the  streams  all  closed  by  ice,  that  they  did  devote 
much  time  to  games  of  brag,  and  loo,  and  other  such  devices 
of  the  devil,  whereby  they  did  little  profit  themselves,  finding 
also  much  cause  to  complain  of  headaches  in  the  morning. 
I  cannot  vouch  for  my  authority,  though  I  deem  the  charges 
not  improbable,  judging  from  certain  manifestations  not  to 
be  misconstrued  on  several  special  occasions. 

Taken  all  in  all,  I  much  doubt  if  there  is  any  locality 
where  the  angler  may  enjoy  his  favorite  pastime  with  the 
same  luxurious  ease  as  on  Long  Island.  Very  different  is 
the  roughing  it  in  the  bush,  with  all  its  hard  vicissitudes. 
If  any  stranger  desires  to  test  or  taste  the  quality  of  the  fish- 
ing here,  let  him  first  try  the  Cedar  Swamp  and  New  Bridge 
creeks  at  Oyster  Bay ;  then,  if  time  and  inclination  serve,  go 
onto  Patchogue  and  put  up  at  Austin  Roe's  hotel,  where 
he  will  receive  the  attentions  of  a  landlord  of  a  thousand 
acres,  who  owns  rights  in  nearly  all  the  trout  ponds  and 
creeks  in  the  neighborhood.    There  he  can  fish  ad  libitum, 


LOKG  ISLAITD.  65 

and  free  of  charge,  and  take  home  with  him  all  the  fish  his 
luck  or  skill  may  bring  to  his  creel.  There  is  no  more 
pleasant  or  profitable  way  of  spending  a  two  weeks'  vacation 
than  to  take  a  horse  and  wagon,  fill  it  with  provender  and 
equipments,  and  make  a  round  trip  of  the  entire  Island,  stop- 
ping at  the  various  fishing-grounds  by  the  way.  The  roads 
are  for  the  most  part  good ;  and  when  the  tourist  has  passed 
through  Babylon,  Jerusalem,  and  Jericho,  and  left  the  wes- 
tern half  of  the  island  behind  him,  he  will  find  himself  among 
a  community  living  in  primitive  simplicity;  who  have  pos- 
sessed the  land  for  nearly  two  centuries  and  a  half, — upright, 
God-serving,  well-to-do  farmers^  who  go  barefoot  and  eat 
with  silver  spoons — men  who  have  seldom  traveled  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  townships  in  which  they  were  bom,  whom 
cares  of  state  do  not  perplex,  and  whose  ancestors  were  the 
original  purchasers  of  the  land  from  the  aboriginal  owners, 
with  whom  they  always  hved  in  peace.*  There  he  will  find 
a  remnant  of  the  Indian  tribes  themselves,  and  discover 
traces  of  their  ancient  burial  grounds  and  fortifications. 
He  will  discover  a  nomenclature  new  and  strange,  and  curious 
geological  freaks ;  ponds  with  no  visible  outlets  that  rise  and 
fall  with  the  tides;  sand-hills  one  hundred  feet  high  that 
shift  with  every  gale  that  blows;  fantastic  cliffs  and  singular 
tongues  of  land;  groups  of  islands,  between  which  the  ocean 
currents  set  hke  a  mile-race ;  skeletons  of  wrecks  imbedded 
in  the  beach;  graveyards  with  one  hundred  head-stones 
sacred  to  entire  ships'  crews  who  perished  on  the  strand. 

A  peculiar  and  fortune-favored  people  are  the  Long  Isl- 
anders, who  know  how  to  enjoy  life  in  a  quiet  way,  and  do 
have  an  unusual  variety  of  its  good  gifts  convenient  to  their 
hands.     The  railroads  now  bring  them  the  daily  papers  from 


*  The  genealogical  records  of  the  author's  family  show  that  his 
paternal  ancestor  bought  at  Southold,  in  1640,  the  first  piece  of  land 
ever  obtained  from  the  Indians  on  the  eastern  end  of  Long  Island. 
He  originally  belonged  to  the  New  Haven  colony. 
5 


66  LOKG  ISLAND. 

the  city,  and  wljatever  luxuries  the  great  emporium  affords. 
The  intervening  plains  furnish  an  occasional  saddle  of  veni- 
son and  a  great  variety  of  feathered  game.  The  fertile  belt 
of  land  which  girts  the  island  yields  of  its  abundance — its 
grain-fields,  its  gardens,  its  orchards,  and  its  live-stock. 
Water-fowl  and  fresh-water  fish  throng  its  ponds  and 
streams,  and  the  broad  salt  marshes  afford  an  excellent 
shooting-ground  for  sportsmen.  Beyond  them  the  ocean 
rolls  up  its  surf  on  the  outer  beach,  while  within  the  shel- 
tered bays  the  mosf  dehcious  fish  and  shell-fish  are  found  in 
profusion.  The  long,  level  roads  offer  the  rarest  opportuni- 
ties for  driving  and  trotting,  and  the  bays  for  bathing,  boat- 
ing, and  yachting. 

The  James  Slip  Ferry  connects  with  the  Long  Island  feail- 
road  at  Hunter's  Point,  and  the  Grand  and  Eoosevelt  Ferries 
with  the  South  Side  Eailroad.  The  entire  journey  to  Green- 
port  is  made  in  about  four  hours. 


THE      ADIRONDACKS.^ 


I  AST  summer  the  New  York  Times  published  an  ar- 
ticle deprecating  the  "ruinous  publicity  "  given  by 
Rev.  W.  H.  H.  Murray  to  the  sporting  attractions 
of  the  Adirondacks,  and  lamenting  that  this  excep- 
tional region  should  have  "  fallen  from  that  estate  of 
fish  and  solitude  for  which  it  was  originally  celebrated."  Rail- 
roads, stages,  telegraphs  and  hotels,  it  says,  "  have  followed 
in  the  train  of  the  throng  who  rushed  for  the  wilderness.  The 
desert  has  blossomed  with  parasols,  and  the  waste  places  are 
filled  with  picnic  parties,  reveling  in  lemonade  and  sardines. 
The  piano  has  banished  the  deer  from  the  entire  region,  and 
seldom  is  any  one  of  the  countless  multitude  of  sportsmen 
fortunate  enough  to  meet  with  even  the  track  of  a  deer." 
The  writer  rejoices,  and  with  reason,  that  Canadian  forests 
are  yet  undesecrated,  and  are  likely  to  remain  so,  "  unless 
some  malevolent  person  writes  a  book  upon  the  subject,  giv- 
ing to  the  indiscriminate  public  the  secrets  that  should  be 
reserved  for  the  true  sportsman  and  the  reverent  lover*  of 
nature." 

It  is  not  without  a  careful  consideration  of  the  question  in 
all  its  aspects,  that  I  have  ventured  to  publish  my  Reference 
Book.    Jealous  as  I  am,  in  common  with  all  sportsmen,  of 

*  See  Harper's  Magazine,  Vol.  XLI.,  page  321. 


68  THE  ADIEONDACKS. 

sportsmen's  secrets,  and  restrained  withal  by  the  instincts 
of  self-interest,  I  should  hesitate  to  reveal  them,  were  it  not 
that  concealment  is  no  longer  a  virtue.  The  considerations 
that  permit  pubHcity  are  these : 

In  the  first  place,  the  several  great  railway  routes  that 
have  been  recently  completed  or  are  now  in  progress — the  In- 
tercolonial, the  European  and  North  American,  and  the  va- 
rious Pacific  roads — are  opening  up  to  tourists  and  sports- 
men regions  hitherto  inaccessible.  Civilization  and  its  con- 
comitants inevitably  follow  in  their  train,  and  hidden  places 
become  open  as  the  day.  What  would  the  negative  force 
of  silence  avail  to  hinder  or  prevent  ? 

There  is  not  much  danger  of  the  musquito  swamps  and 
inaccessible  fastnesses  of  the  Adirondacks  being  invaded  by 
"  good  society."  The  crowd  comes  only  where  the  way  is 
made  easy,  and  because  it  is  easy.  It  follows  the  natural 
water-courses  and  avoids  the  tedious  "carries."  It  halts 
where  the  sporting-houses  invite,  and  selects  those  which 
provide  the  most  abundant  creature  comforts. 

Murray's  book  attracted  its  crowds,  not  because  a  legion  of 
uninitiated  sportsmen  and  ambitious  Amazons  stood  waiting 
for  the  gates  of  some  new  Paradise  to  open,  but  because  it 
presented  the  wilderness  in  new  aspects  and  fascinating 
colors.  It  showed  how  its  charms  could  be  made  enjoyable 
even .  for  ladies.  It  was  a  simple  narrative  of  personal 
experience  -and  impressions,  written  con  amove,  with  a  vigor 
and  freshness  that  touched  a  sympathetic  chord  in  the 
hearts  of  its  readers.  It  aroused  a  latent  impulse  and  pro- 
vided a  new  sensation  for  those  who  had  become  surfeited  by 
the '  weary  round  of  watering-place  festivities.  And  it  has 
accomplished  much  good  by  encouraging  a  taste  for  field 
sports  and  that  health-giving  exercise  which  shall  restore  the 
bloom  to  faded  cheeks  and  vigor  to  attenuated  valetudina- 
rians.' 

What  though  the  door-posts  of  Adirondack  hostelries  be 
penciled  o'er  with  names  of  those  who  fain  would  seek  re- 


THE  ADIEONDACKS.  69 

nown  among  the  list  of  mighty  Mmrods ;  what  though  the 
wilderness  blooms  with  radiant  parasols,  and  pianos  thrum 
throughout  the  realm ;  there  yet  is  ample  room  for  the  sports- 
man, and  sohtude  sufficient  for  the  most  sentimental  lover 
of  nature.  The  very  contour  of  the  land  makes  roads  im- 
practicable. It  is  everywhere  broken  up  into  mountain 
ranges,  groups,  and  isolated  peaks,  interspersed  with  innu- 
merable basins  and  water-courses,  nearly  all  connecting. 
These  are  the  heads  and  feeders  of  numerous  rivers  that 
flow  to  every  point  of  the  compass,  and  after  tumbling  down 
the  lofty  water-shed  in  a  series  of  rapids,  fall  into  the  lakes 
or  ocean.  These  are  the  sources  of  the  Hudson,  the  Oswa- 
gatchie.  Black  Eiver,  Eaquette,  St.  Eegis,  Ausable,  and  Sar- 
anac.  It  is  only  where  a  valuable  iron  deposit  makes  it  pay 
to  surmount  the  natural  obstacles,  that  some  sohtary 
tramway  penetrates  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains. 
The  few  fertile  districts  and  tillable  spots  are  likely  to  re- 
main unoccupied  forever  for  lack  of  highways  to  a  market, 
unless,  perchance,  the  growth  of  succeeding  centuries  drives 
an  overflowing  population  to  the  very  crags  of  this  American 
Switzerland. 

It  has  been  proposed  to  make  a  national  park  of  this 
grand  domain,  and  dedicate  it  forever  to  sports  of  forest, 
lake,  and  field.  Why  not  ?  Here  is  a  territory  of  three  mil- 
lions and  a  half  of  acres,  or  five  thousand  square  miles — 
larger  than  the  state  of  Connecticut.  Let  the  disciples  of 
the  rod  and  gun  go  up  and  possess  the  land.  Let  the  girls 
romp.  Let  the  pianos  thrum.  Let  the  wild-wood  ring 
with  the  merry  laughter  of  healthy  women — real  flesh  and 
blood  women  who  will  make  wives  too  good  for  the  sour  as- 
cetics who  would  fain  frown  them  out.  Precious  indeed  in 
these  cloudy  times  of  irksome  servitude  are  the  holiday 
hours  we  snatch,  sparkling  with  dew  and  sunshine,  from  the 
beatitude  of  the  better  day.  And  what  more  genial 
warmth  can  the  spoi-tsman  find  than  the  female  welcome 


70  THE   ADIRONDACKS. 

that  greets  him  from  the  long  piazza  when  he  returns  from 
his  exile  in  the  woods ! 

The  borders  of  the  Adirondack  Wilderness  are  accessible 
at  various  points  by  tolerable  roads  which  branch  off  from 
the  main  thoroughfares  of  travel.  Dr.  Ely's  Map,  published 
by  Oolton,  172  William  St.,  New  York,  gives  minutest  infor- 
mation as  to  distances,  interior  routes,  "  carries,"  hotel  and 
stage  accommodation,  etc.,  and  no  tourist  should  be  without 
one.  I  have  found  it  remarkably  accurate  in  all  its  details, 
though  slight  corrections  are  sometimes  necessary.  For  im- 
mediate reference,  however,  the  subjoined  directions  will  prove 
useful  and  reliable : 

From  the  southwest  the  approach  is  via  Boonville,  on,  the 
Utica  and  Black  Eiver  E.  E.  A  wagon-road  (so  called)  leads, 
directly  to  the  Fulton  chain  of  lakes,  in  the  very  heart  of 
what  is  known  as  "  John  Brown's  Tract ";  but  it  is  practi- 
cable for  wheels  only  for  about  fourteen  miles,  or  a  little  be- 
yond Moose  Eiver.  Thence  to  Arnold's  old  sporting-house, 
eight  miles,  the  success  of  the  journey  must  depend  upon 
one's  ingenuity  in  surmounting  obstacles.  The  difficulties  of 
the  way  are  graphically  portrayed  by  the  pen  and  pencil  of 
T.  B.  Thorpe,  in  the  19th  volume  of  Harper's  Magazine; 
though  the  road  has  been  consid"erably  improved  since  the 
article  was  published.  Some  few  boulders  have  sunk  into 
the  mud,  and  trunks  of  trees  that  then  crossed  the  road  have 
rotted  away,  so  that  it  is  no  longer  necessary  to  go  around 
them.  Consequently  the  distance  is  somewhat  shortened, 
and  the  road  made  more  level.  From  Arnold's  there  is  a 
navigable  water-course  all  the  way  to  Eaquette  Lake,  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  miles,  broken  by  three  portages  or  "  carries," 
whose  aggregate  length  is  two  and  three-quarters  miles. 
Indeed  there  is  a  continuous  water-course  by  way  of  Eaquette 
Lake,  as  will  presently  be  shown,  all  the  way  to  the  northern- 
most limit  of  the  Adirondack  region.  This  "  John  Brown's 
Tract "  is  about  twenty  miles  square  and  contains  210,000 
acres.    As  is  well  known,  it  was  once  the  seat  of  very  consid- 


THE  ADIRONDACKS.  71 

erable  iron-works  which  afterward  failed  in  the  fulfillment  of 
a  promise  of  lucrative  profit,  and  were  abandoned.  Arnold's 
house  is  a  relic  of  those  ancient  improvements.  It  is  one  of 
the  finest  fishing  and  hunting  grounds  in  the  whole  section, 
though  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  sportsman  must  turn  a  little 
aside  from  the  main  thoroughfare  if  he  would  find  reward 
commensurate  with  his  endeavors.  The  adjacent  country  is 
hilly,  though  not  strictly  mountainous;  but  there  is  an  iso- 
lated peak  called  "  Bald  Mountain,"  which  is  everywhere  the 
most  prominent  feature  of  the  landscape.  From  its  summit 
there  is  a  panorama  of  magnificent  extent.  Fourth  Lake 
with  its  green  islands  occupies  the  central  position,  stretching 
away  for  six  miles  through  an  unbroken  forest  whose  farthest 
limit  is  a  blue  mountain  range  delicately  limned  upon  the 
horizon.  There  is  a  comfortable  house  near  the  foot  of  the 
mountaiM  where  parties  proposing  to  ascend  can  find  an 
abiding-place. 

From  the  west  there  are  entrances  to  the  Wilderness  via 
Lowville  and  Carthage,  stations  on  the  Black  River  Railroad, 
by  tolerable  wagon  roads  which  converge  at  Lake  Frp,ncis,  a 
distance  of  eighteen  or  twenty  miles ;  thence  by  road  and 
stream  twenty-two  miles  to  Beach's  Lake,  and  thence  nine 
miles  to  Raquette  Lake.  This  route  is  not  much  traveled, 
and  the  sport  will  not  pay  for  the  hardships  of  the  journey. 
Boone ville  is  the  better  starting-point. 

From  .Potsdam,  on  the  north,  there  is  a  very  good  winter 
road  all  the  way  to  "  Grave's  Lodge "  on  Big  Tupper  Lake, 
whence  all  parts  of  the  Wilderness  are  accessible  by  boat. 
The  summer  route  is  from  Potsdam  to  Colton,  ten  miles  by 
stage;  thence  by  good  wagon  road  twelve  miles  to  McEwen's, 
on  the  Raquette  River ;  thence  six  miles  to  Haw's,  with  a 
very  short  portage ;  thence  six  miles  and  a  half  by  road  to 
the  "Moosehead  still  water";  and  thence  fifteen  miles  by 
water  to  the  foot  of  Raquette  Pond,  from  which  there  is 
water  communication  with  Big  Tupper  and  all  other  points 
north  and  south.     From  McEwen's  to  Raquette  Pond  the 


72  THE   ADIROKDACKS. 

river  is  broken  by  a  succession  of  rapids  and  falls,  around 
which  boats  must  be  carried.  Notwithstanding  the  fre- 
quency of  the  portages,  and  the  yexatious  changes  from 
wagon  to  stream,  this  is  a  favorite  route  for  sportsmen,  for 
the  adjacent  country  abounds  in  fish  and  game.  Visitors  to 
this  section  do  not,  however,  generally  go  through,  but  camp 
at  ehgible  points,  or  put  up  at  Pelsue's,  Haw's,  Ferry's,  and 
other  houses  below  the  Piercefield  Falls.  On  the  other  hand, 
visitors  from  above  seldom  descend  as  far  as  Piercefield. 

Entering  from  the  north  at  Malone  on  the  Ogdensburg 
and  Northern  Eailroad,  after  a  fortnight  spent  at  Chazy  and 
Chateaugay  Lakes,  the  route  is  by  the  east  branch  of  St. 
Eegis  River  to  Meacham  Pond,  famous  for  its  trout  and  its 
beautiful  beach,  and  thence  by  stream  through  Osgood's 
Pond,  with  a  half-mile  carry  to  Paul  Smith's,  on  the  lower 
St  Regis  Lake,  the  preferred  and  best-known  starting-point 
for  the  interior  Wilderness  for  all  visitors  from  the  east.  It 
is  the  easiest  and  shortest  route,  and  affords  fine  fishing  the 
whole  distance.  There  is  also  an  excellent  wagon  road  from 
Malone  to  Martin's,  a  favorite  hotel  on  the  Lower  Saranac — 
distance  fifty  miles. 

From  the  north-east  there  is  a  railroad  twenty  miles  long 
from  Plattsburg  to  Point  of  Rocks,  Ausable  Station,  on  the 
Ausable  River,  whence  lines  of  Concord  stages  run  daily  over 
excellent  roads  to  Paul  Smith's  and  Martin's,  diverging  at 
Bloomingdale,  the  post-office  nearest  to  either  point.  The 
distance  by  stage  is  about  forty  miles.  The  same  stages  also 
run  from  Port  Kent,  on  Lake  Champlain,  through  Keese- 
ville  to  the  railroad  terminus  at  Point  of  Rocks,  a  trip  of  thir- 
teen miles.  By  this  route  a  great  deal  is  saved  in  distance ; 
but  thirteen  miles  of  staging  are  added,  and  nothing  is  gained 
in  time,  as  the  stages  all  connect  with  the  railroad  trains. 
Whether  the  tourist  leaves  the  steamer  at  Port  Kent  or  con- 
tinues to  Plattsburg,  he  will  have  to  remain  at  a  hotel  over 
night.  The  Wetherill  House,  and  Fouquet's  Hotel,  at  Platts- 
burg, afford  the  traveler  every  luxury,  and  at  the  Ausable 


\, 


THE  ADIRONDACKS.  73 

House,  Keeseville,  there  is  excellent  accommodation.  Both 
places  are  reached  by  steamer  from  Whitehall  and  Burhng- 
ton,  and  also  by  railroad  from  Montreal.  Tourists  often  take 
the  Keeseville  route  in  order  to  visit  the  celebrated  chasm- 
of  the  Ausable  Kiver,  a  magnificent  mountain  gorge  of  most 
romantic  effects  and  picturesque  scenery.  There  is  also  a 
route  to  Saranac  Lake  from  this  point,  which  passes  through 
Wilmington  Notch  and  skirts  the  base  of  "  Whiteface  Mount- 
ain," and  thence  continues  on  through  North  Elba,  where 
may  be  seen  the  tomb  of  John  Brown,  of  Harper's  Ferry 
renown.  There  is  a  road  to  the  top  of  "Whiteface,"  whence 
can  be  had  an  illimitable  view  of  the  Wilderness.  This  route 
altogether  affords  the  most  remarkable  and  varied  scenery  to 
be  found  in  the  Adirondacks ;  and  a  visit  will  well  repay 
those  lovers  of  nature  who  have  never  yet  "  wet  a  line  "  or 
"drawn  a  bead  on  a  deer." 

By  the  other  route  there  is  a  romantic  bit  of  scenery  at 
the  Franklin  Falls  of  the  Saranac ;  but  its  natural  charms 
are  disfigured  by  one  of  those  utilitarian  improvements,  a 
saw-mill.  Here  is  the  "  half-way  house  "  where  passengers 
for  Smith's  and  Martin's  dine.  Two  seasons  ago,  while  in- 
dulging in  a  post-prandial  cigar,  I  took  the  trouble  to  count 
the  names  on  the  little  hotel  register,  and  found  that  they 
numbered  fifteen  hundred !  ^  and  the  season  was  only  half 
over.  These,  however,  included  those  going  out  as  well  as 
those  going  in.  (When  a  man  is  headed  for  the  Wilderness, 
he  is  said  to  be  "  going  in.") 

There  are  two  other  routes  from  the  east,  namely,  from 
Westport,  and  from  Crown  Point,  on  Lake  Champlain.  Both 
of  these  take  the  visitor  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains,  the 
birth-place  of  winds  and  the  nursery  of  snow-fed  river-sources. 
Here  old  "  Boreas  Mountain "  dwells ;  here  is  Boreas  Lake, 
the  fountain-head  of  Boreas  Kiver.  Here  also  are  Lakes 
Sanford,  Henderson,  and  Delia,  which  are  often  resorted  to 
by  pertinacious  sportsmen  ;  but  as  these  are  more  accessible 
from  the  south  by  the  old  Fort  Edward  stage-route,  or  the 


74  THE   ADIR0NDACK8. 

Adirondack  Eailroad,  which  is  now  extended  to  North  Creek 
Station,  sixty  miles  from  Saratoga,  the  above-named  routes 
are  seldom  used. 

The  Fort  Edward  road  leaves  the  Saratoga  and  Whitehall 
railway  at  the  station  of  that  name,  and  extends  to  Long 
Lake,  a  distance  of  seventy-five  miles,  touching  Lake  George 
'at  Caldwell,  Schroon  Lake  at  Potterville,  and  passing  within 
easy  access  of  Lakes  Delia,  Sanford,  Henderson,  Harris,  and 
Catlin. 

From  the  south,  access  is  had  to  Bound  Lake  and  Lakes 
Pleasant  and  Piseco — the  well-stocked  waters  of  the  famed 
"  Piseco  Club " — by  a  good  wagon  road  which  leaves  Little 
Falls  or  Herkimer  on  the  New  York  Central  Eailroad.  The 
distance  from  Herkimer  to  the  head  of  Piseco  Lake  is  fifty- 
two  miles. 

The  foregoing  make  up  a  list  complete  of  all  the  highways 
into  the  Adirondack  Wilderness,  with  two  exceptions.  One 
is  a  road  to  "  Joe's  Lake  "  in  the  lower  part  of  Herkimer 
county,  which  leaves  the  town  of  Prospect,  on  the  Black 
River  Railroad  ;  and  the  other  a  boat  route  from  Clarksboro, 
on  the  Grasse  River,  to  Massawepie  Pond  at  its  head.  Clarks- 
boro is  an  'iron  region  at  the  terminus  of  a  branch  of  the 
Watertown  and  Potsdam  Railroad.  Massawepie  Pond  is 
within  striking  distance  of  the  Raquette  River,  near  Pierce- 
field  Falls,  and  is  visited  by  old  hunters  who  mean  business, 
and  are  not  afraid  to  camp  out  or  follow  a  blind  trail  through 
the  woods.  There  are  plenty  of  deer  and  trout  there  for 
those  who  will  hunt  them  in  their  season.  Massawepie  is  acces- 
sible also  by  the  old  Potsdam  wagon-road  to  Tupper's  Lake. 

The  "  circumbendibus "  route  generally  taken  by  ladies 
and  gentlemen  who  purpose  ''doing"  the  Adirondacks 
thoroughly,  is  from  the  foot  of  the  Upper  Saranac  Lake, 
three  miles  over  the  "  Sweeny  carry  "  to  the  Raquette  River ; 
thence  through  Big  Tupper  Lake  and  stream,  via  Round 
Pond,  to  Little  Tupper  Lake ;  thence  through  a  series  of 
little  ponds  and  connecting  streams,  with  one  three-mile 


THE  ADIRONDACKS.  75 

carry,  to  Forked  Lake ;  thence  carry  a  mile  and  a  half  to 
Raquette  Lake,  the  southernmost  point  of  the  tour.  From 
Kaquette  Lake  into  Long  Lake,  with  three  short  "  carries," 
thence  through  Raquette  River,  Stony  Creek,  and  Stony 
Creek  Pond,  with  a  mile  "carry,"  back  to  Upper  Saranac 
Lake.  From  thence,  yisitors  for  Martin's  carry  over  at 
Bartlett's  through  Round  Lake  to  the  Lower  Saranac ;  for 
Paul  Smith's,  they  continue  through  the  Upper  Saranac  to 
Big  Clear  Pond,  with  a  forty  rod  "  carry  " ;  thence  carry  a 
mile  and  a  half  to  the  Upper  St.  Regis  Lake,  and  thence 
through  Spitfire  Pond  to  headquarters  on  the  Lower  St. 
Regis. 

There  are  several  routes  that  diverge  from  the  main  route 
at  various  points,  those  most  in  favor  being  from  Raquette 
Lake  fourteen  miles  to  Blue  Mountain  Lake,  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  the  Adirondack  waters ;  from  Big  Tupper  Lake, 
with  a  three-mile  carry  from  Grave's  Lodge  to  Horseshoe 
Pond,  Hitchins'  Pond,  and  a  labyrinth  of  lakes  and  ponds  of 
greater  or  less  extent ;  and  from  the  Upper  Saranac  through 
Fish  River  to  Big  Square  Pond ;  thence,  with  a  half  mile 
carry,  through  a  series  of  small  lakes  to  Big  and  Little-  Wolf 
Ponds,  Raquette  Pond,  and  Big  Tupper;  and  thence  return 
by  Raquette  River  to  Upper  Saranac.  The  two  last-named 
regions  are  equal  for  game  and  fish  to  any  in  the  country, 
and  the  Hitchins  Pond  district  is  perhaps  the  best. 

Boats  from  Paul  Smith's  can  traverse  160  miles  of  lake  and 
stream. 

Paul  Smith's  has  been  very  appropriately  styled  the  "  St. 
James  of  the  Wilderness."  It  has  all  the  "  modern  improve- 
ments "  except  gas.  A  telegraph  wire  connects  it  with  the 
outer  world.  It  has  commodious  lodgings  for  nearly  one 
hundred  guests,  and  in  the  height  of  the  season  will  accom- 
modate many  more  than  it  will  hold.  Sofas  and  tables  are 
occupied,  tents  are  pitched  upon  the  lawn  in  front,  and 
blankets  are  spread  on  the  floor  of  the  immense  Guide  House, 
itself  capable  of  lodging  some  sixty  or  more  guides.    And 


76  THE  ADIRONDAOKS. 

each  guide  has  his  boat.  Beautiful  crafts  they  are,  weighing 
from  sixty  to  eighty  pounds,  and  drawing  but  three  inches 
of  water.  Most  of  them  carry  two  persons,  some  of  them  three. 
A  guide  will  sUng  one  of  them  upon  his  back  and  carry  it 
mile  after  mile  as  easily  as  a  tortoise  carries  his  shell.  When 
the  carries  are  long,  wagons  and  sleds  are  in  readiness  to  haul 
them  from  landing  to  landing ;  but  few  are  the  guides  that 
will  refuse  to  back  them  over  for  the  price  of  the  carriage. 

Great  is  the  stir  at  these  caravansaries  on  the  long  summer 
evenings — ribbons  fluttering  on  the  piazzas ;  silks  rustling  in 
dress  promenade ;  ladies  in  short  mountain  suits,  fresh  from 
an  afternoon  picnic;  embryo  sportsmen  in  velveteen  and 
corduroys  of  approved  cut,  descanting  learnedly  of  backwoods 
experience ;  excursion  parties  returning,  laden  with  trophies 
of  trout  and  pond  lilies;  stages  arriving  top-heavy  with 
trunks,  rifle-cases,  and  hampers;  guides  intermingling, 
proffering  services,  or  arranging  trips  for  the  morrow ;  pistols 
shooting  at  random ;  dogs  on  the  qui  vive  ;  invalids,  bundled 
in  blankets,  propped  up  ia  chairs;  old  gents  distracted, 
vainly  perusing  their  papers ;  fond  lovers  ^trolling ;  dowagers 
scheming;  mosquitoes  devouring;  the  supper-bell  ringing, 
and  general  commotion  confusing  mine  host.  Anon  some 
millionnaire  !N"imrod  or  piscator  of  marked  renown  drags  in 
from  a  weary  day  with  a  basket  of  unusual  weight,  or  per- 
chance a  fawn  cut  down  before  its  time.  Fulsome  are  the 
congratulations  given,  manifold  the  acknowledgments  of  his 
prowess.  He  receives  his  honors  with  that  becoming  dignity 
which  reticence  impresses,  and  magnificently  tips  a  twenty- 
dollar  note  to  his  trusty  guide.  The  crowd  look  on  in  ad- 
miration, and  vow  to  emulate  the  hero.  After  supper  there 
is  a  generous  flow  of  champagne  to  a  selected  few  upon  the 
western  piazza,  and  the  exploits  of  the  day  are  recounted  and 
compared.  The  parlors  grow  noisy  with  music  and  dancing ; 
silence  and  smoke  prevail  in  the  card-room.  This  is  the  daily 
evening  routine. 

At  early  dawn  of  morning  camping  parties  are    astir. 


THE  ADIEOKDACKS.  77 

With  much  careful  stowage  and  trimming  of  ship,  the 
impedimenta  of  the  voyage  are  placed  in  the  boats.  Tents, 
blankets,  cooking  utensils,  provision  hampers,  rods,  guns, 
demijohns,  satchels,  and  overcoats  are  piled  up  amidships. 
A  backboard  is  nicely  adjusted  in  the  stern  for  the  tourist, 
who  takes  his  seat  and  hoists  his  umbrella.  The  guide  deftly 
ships  his  oars,  cuts  a  fresh  piece  of  tobacco,  and  awaits  orders 
to  start.  Singly,  and  by  twos  or  threes,  the  boats  get  away ; 
cambric  adieus  are  waved  by  the  few  receding  friends  on 
shore,  and  the  household  of  St.  James  is  left  to  finish  its 
slumbers  till  summoned  to  breakfast  at  8  o'clock.  Delicious 
and  vivifying  is  the  pure  morning  air ;  grateful  as  *a  mother's 
lullaby  the  long  sweep  of  the  oars ;  enchanting  the  shifting 
scenery  and  ever-changing  outline  of  shore.  In  a  dreamland 
of  listless  and  "sweet  do-nothing"  the  hours  lapse  away. 
Cigar  after  cigar  melts  into  smoke.  Lunch  is  leisurely  eaten 
meanwhile.  Through  the  outlet  of  one  lake  into  the  next, 
winding  through  many  a  tortuous  stream,  gliding  past  many 
an  islet,  with  one  boat  ahead  and  another  astern,  and  the 
mechanical  oars  dripping  diamonds  of  spray  that  flash  in  the 
sun — what  can  be  more  deliciously  pleasant — what  freedom 
from  anxiety  and  business  cares  so  complete ! 

"  Hallo,  guide,  what's  that  ?  Struck  something  ?  Good 
gracious,  you  aint  gdlng  to  stop  here  in  this  sedge-grass ! 
Why,  the  pesky  mosquitoes  are  thicker  than  hghtning. 
Whew !  I  can't  stand  this !    They'll  eat  us  alive." 

"  Got  to  carry  over  here,  mister.  It's  only  a  mile  and  a 
half!" 

A  mile  and  a  half  to  tramp  through  woods,  mud  and  mos- 
quitoes!    .     .    . 

Ah !  the  lake  once  more !  This  is  bliss !  What  a  relief  to 
get  on  the  water  again,  and  away  from  the  mosquitoes! 
How  clear  it  is!  What  beautiful  shores!  Anon  into 
the  noble  Eaquette,  with  trees  overarching,  current  slug- 
gishly flowing,  still  waters  running  deep.  Just  here  the 
current  is  swifter.    Toss  your  fly  in,  where  it  breaks  over 


78  THE  ADIKON"DACKS. 

that  rock.  A  trout !  Play  him  well — a  large  fellow,  too ! 
Well  landed — no  time  to  stop  long — we'll  pick  them  out  as 
we  proceed.  The  trout  always  lie  among  the  rocks,  in  the 
quick  water,  at  this  season.  A  fortnight  later  they  will  be 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cold  brooks  that  flow  into  the  main 
stream.  Look !  boats  coming  up— So-and-so's  party — been 
camping  down  at  Long  Lake.  What  luck?  Report  us, 
please.  Ah!  whose  house  is  that?  Stetson's.  We'll  stop 
when  we  return.  The  Saranac  at  last !  What  a  magnificent 
sheet  of  water !  What  beautiful  islands !  See  those  tents. 
Why,  I  can  count  a  dozen  along  the  shore.  I  had  no  idea  so 
many  were  camping  out.  Bartlett's,  at  last !  We  tarry  here 
to-night.  What  a  place  for  trout !  Two  years  ago,  just  in 
there,  aboye  the  dam,  where  you  see  that  rock  in  mid- 
stream, I  hooked  a  lake-trout  on  the  tail-fly  of  an  extraordi- 
nary long  cast ;  they  say  a  lake-trout  won't  rise  to  a  fly.  He 
did,  though,  and  took  it  handsomely.  I  never  had  better 
sport  in  my  hfe.  He  amused  me  for  half  an  hour,  an(^  when 
i  had  him  landed,  he  weighed  four  pounds  and  a  half  I 
was  proud  to  kill  that  fish  on  my  eight-ounce  bamboo. 

Pleasant  is  the  voyage  around  the  route.  Each  day's  ex- 
perience differs  from  the  last.  New  scenery  constantly  opens 
to  view.  Friendly  parties  and  famihar  faces  are  constantly 
met.  And  one  need  not  camp  out  at  ^1,  if  indisposed.  The 
guide  will  arrange  to  stop  at  a  hotel  each  night.  And  what 
rousing  fun  there  is  in  these  wayside  hostelries  when  parties 
meet!  What  blazing  fires,  what  steaming  venison,  what 
pungent  odor  of  fried  pork'  and  bacon,  what  friendly  aroma 
of  hot  coffee ! 

Here  I  would  fain  indulge  my  wayward  pen,  and  in  fancy 
go  over  the  ground  once  more.  Perhaps,  however,  it  is 
better  to  leave  something  to  the  anticipation  of  those  who 
may  seek  a  new  experience  in  this  enchanting  region.  For 
the  benefit  of  such  I  will  say  briefly,  that  the  best  fishing  is 
in  May.  The  ice  breaks  up  about  the  25th  of  April,  and  the 
fish  are  then  scattered  over  the  lakes  and  streams.    The 


THE  ADIRONDACKS. 


79 


monster  lake-trout,  which  often  weighs  sixteen  to  twenty 
pounds,  can  be  ^ken  by  surface  trolling  with  a  "  gang  "  or 
"  spoon,"  and  sometimes  with  a  fly.  The  season,  however,  is 
cold,  and  lacks  the  attractions  of  leafy  June ;  but  there  are 
no  flies  or  mosquitoes  to  annoy.  In  June  the  trout  lie  in 
the  quick  water  of  the  streams  where  boulders  make  an 
eddy  or  divide  the  current.  Later  they  are  found  at  the 
mouths  of  cold  brooks,  preparatory  to  spawning. 

The  necessary  expenses  of  the  tourist  are  about  $3  per 
day,  whether  he  stops  at  a  hotel,  camps,  or  takes  a  guide. 
The  charge  for  boat  and  guide  is  $2.50  per  diem ;  hotel  fares 
from  $1.50  to  $2.50. 


THE     ALLEGHANIES. 


^HE  Alleghanies  are  a  continuation  of  that  mountain- 
chain  or  dividing  ridge,  which  begins  in  the  Cana- 
dian district  of  Gaspe,  in  latitude  49°,  forms  the 
natural  boundary  between  Maine  and  Canada  on  the 
west,  and  is  continued  through  the  Green  Mountains 
of  Vermont,  the  Adirondack  chain  and  water-sheds  of  New 
York  and  Pennsylvania  to  Virginia.  Here  joining  the  Blue 
Eidge  and  Cumberland  range,  they  form  a  triple  chain  which 
extends  in  parallel  lines  through  North  Carolina,  Tennes- 
see, Northern  Georgia  and  Alabama,  to  Mississippi,  in  lati- 
tude 33°. 

Throughout  alf  this  mountain  region  the  speckled  trout 
inhabit,  and  the  great  lake  trout  dwell. 

Halcyon  days  have  I  passed  at  Lake  George.  What  tongue 
has  ever  failed  to  sing  the  praises  of  its  azure  mountains  and 
crystal  depths  ?  What  artist  has  not  transferred  to  canvas  bits 
of  its  enchanting  scenery — the  islets  that  gem  the  Narrows, 
the  lovely  seclusion  of  the  Hague,  or  the  •  sharply-cut  out- 
Unes  of  "  Elephant  Mountain"  ?  Has  he  not  even  essayed  to 
paint  the  hallowed  stillness  of  Sabbath  Day  Point  ?  Is  not 
their  name  legion,  and  are  not  their  cosy,  vine-draped  sum- 
mer homes  scattered  along  its  romantic  shores  ?  Do  they 
not  nestle  in  its  glens  and  shady  nooks  ?  And  the  artists, 
are  they  not  seen  daily  on  sultry  mornings,  sitting  under 


THE  ALLEGHANIES.  81 

capacious  umbrellas,  whose  amplitude  of  shade  protects 
their  darling  easels  from  the  sun — sitting  sketching  from  'Nor 
ture  with  assiduous  eye  and  hand,  as  though  the  reputation 
of  Nature  depended  upon  the  sketch. 

Many  are  the  pounds  of  fish  I  have  taken  from  Lake 
George ;  many  the  "laker"  I  have  raised  with  my  troUing- 
spoon  from  the  buoys  where  old  Moses  "  chummed"  his  fish. 
It  was  a  sort  of  confidence-game  on  the  fish  at  the  expense 
of  Moses ;  but  I  always  gave  the  old  man  what  I  caught. 
I  did,  honor  bright !  Around  the  three  hundred  islands  of 
the  Narrows,  and  the  peninsula  of  Tongue  Mountain,  I  have 
trolled  for  black  bass  with  rich  success,  and  taken  them  time 
and  again  with  my  rod  and  an  ibis-fly  from  the  rocks  at  the 
north  end  of  Fourteen-mile  Island.  And  nearly  all  the 
trout-streams  in  the  neighborhood  have  paid  shining  tribute 
to  my  creel.  Many  a  happy  hour  have  I  whiled  away  upon 
the  lawn  at  Bolton,  now  studying  anatomy  and  physiology, 
while  the  unconscious  subjects  played  croquet,  and  anon 
reading  my  favorite  book,  or  watching  the  little  steamer  that 
plied  to  and  fro.  In  the  quietness  of  my  rural  seclusion  I 
envy  not  the  artificial  attractions  of  the  grand  hotel  at 
Caldwell — its  hops,  its  billiardSj  its  brass  band,  its  bar,  its 
fast  horses,  its  entremets,  its  flare  and  its  flummery.  I  enjoy 
only  things  natural,  and  it  is  not  without  reluctance  that  I 
turn  my  back  upon  them  when  the  hour  for  adieu  comes. 
All  the  eloquence  of  the  "  Colonel's"  historical  apostrophes 
to  Ticonderoga  and  the  American  flag,  with  a  sight  of  the 
bleached  old  ruins  themselves,  will  not  utterly  banish  my  feel- 
ings of  regret. 

All  the  great  lakes  of  New  York  are  celebrated  as  summer- 
resorts,  and  in  them  the  angler  will  always  find  good  sport, 
for  the  kinds  of  fish  are  various,  though  not  all  of  the  Sal- 
mo  family.  It  is  needless  to  specify  them  here,  for  the  pis- 
catory dish  I  dole  is  epicurean.  It  is  the  delicate  and  deli- 
cious flesh  of  trout  and  salmon,  pink  and  flaky,  served  with 
sauce  piquante. 
6 


82  THE  ALLEGHAKIES. 

All  througli  that  portion  of  Western  New  York  accessible 
by  the  Erie  Eailroad,  both  in  lake  and  stream,  and  in  the 
tributaries  of  the  Delaware,  trout  are  to  be  found  in  great 
abundance.  Greenwood  Lake,  twelve  miles  from  Turner's,  is 
a  favorite  rendezvous.  In  Pike  county,  Pennsylvania, 
there  is  fine  fishing,  of  which  I  shall  speak  particularly  in  a 
subsequent  chapter.  The  valley  of  the  Juniata  in  Penn- 
sylvania, and  the  Cheat  Eiver  in  Western  Virginia,  are  famous 
for  the  number  and  size  of  their  trout. 

The  Cheat  Eiver  country  extends  through  Eandolph  and 
Preston  counties,  and  comprises  one  of  the  most  savage  por- 
tions of  the  AUeghany  range.  The  river  and  its  tributaries, 
the  Blackwater,  Seneca  Creek,  the  Laurel,  Gode  Fork,  all 
abound  in  trout,  and  run  through  a  labyrinth  of  moun- 
tains, roaring  down  ledges,  leaping  precipices,  winding 
through  dismal  gorges,  and  everywhere  dashing  and  scin- 
tillating with  foam  and  bubbles.  Perpendicular  walls  run  up 
to  the  sky.  Great  pines  cling  to  their  crevices,  and  threaten 
to  fall  before  the  first  windy  gust  that  whisks  down  the 
ravine.  Such  a  combination  of  tangled  wilderness  and  rug- 
ged grandeur  is  seldom  seen.  The  White  Mountains  are  tame 
in  comparison,  and  Tuckerman's  Eavine  becomes  a  mere  rift 
in  the  rock  beside  these  mighty  chasms  from  whose  misty 
depths  rise  confused  sounds  of  rushing  waters  and  mutter- 
ings  of  unseen  agents.  Near  the  source  of  the  Dry  Fork  are 
the  "  Sinks,"  where  the  river  rushes  into  the  side  of  the 
mountains  and  disappears  for  a  time,  then  suddenly  emerges 
to  view  and  continues  its  course  in  the  sunKght.  The  Cheat 
derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that  its  waters  are  so  clear,  and 
at  the  same  time  so  dark  as  to  deceive  the  stranger  in  regard 
to  its  depths  when  crossing  its  fording-places.  It  is  reached 
by  the  Parkersburg  branch  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Eail- 
road. 

Away  up  among  the  mountains  of  the  north-east  corner 
of  North  Carolina,  where  the  boundaries  of  four  states  join, 
are  the  sources  of  many  trout-streams  which  form  the  tribu- 


THE  ALLEGHAKIES.  83 

taries  of  larger  rivers.  The  Toe  River,  Cranberry  Creek,  Elk 
River,  Linville  River,  and  all  the  tributaries  of  the  "Watauga, 
contain  trout.  New  River,  in  Watauga  county,  with  its  three 
forks,  and  all  the  streams  that  run  into  it,  abound  in  trout. 
Near  here  are  the  highest  peaks  to  be  found  east  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains ;  the  Black  Mountain  and  Roan  Mountain, 
each  seven  thousand  feet  high,  and  a  brotherhood  of  lesser 
lights,  of  which  Mount  Pisgah,  Table  Mountain,  its  face  a 
sheer  precipice  several  thousand  feet  deep,  Smoky  Mountain, 
Bald  Mountain,  and  Cold  Mountain,  are  the  chief.  Here  are 
finest  grazing  lands  for  cattle,  even  on  the  very  summits  0 
some.  Farms  are  scattered  here  and  there  at  frequent  inter- 
vals, and  among  the  humble  cabins  of  the  poorer  whites  are 
houses  of  some  pretension,  whose  wealthy  owners  are  agricul- 
turists, graziers,  and  hunters  combined.  Indeed,  every  native 
resident  is  a  born  hunter,  for  the  country  is  filled  with  game. 
Old  Burnet,  the  mighty  hunter  of  Black  Mountain  and  for 
years  its  sole  inhabitant,  could  count  his  bear  scalps  by  the 
hundred,  not  to  mention  panthers,  wild  cats,  and  other  var- 
mints thrown  in.  Every  man  keeps  his  hound,  and  many  a 
pack.  This  district  is  reached  by  way  of  Johnson  City,  on 
the  Virginia  and  East  Tennessee  Railroad. 

This  mountain  region  extends  into  East  Tennessee.  The 
Swanannoah  River,  and  the  Sweetwater  branch  of  the  Little 
Tennessee  afford  excellent  trout-fishing ;  the  latter  is  reached 
by  way  of  Franklin.  But  none  of  these  localities  are  often 
visited  by  Northern  people,  few  of  whom,  I  suppose,  are  even 
aware  of  their  existence.  For  the  sake  of  the  novelty  alone, 
it  would  be  well  to  pay  them  a  visit. 

Next  to  the  Cheat  River  country,  the  counties  of  Potter 
and  Elk,  in  Northern  Pennsylvania,  offer  the  greatest  induce- 
ments to  the  sportsman  to  be  found  in  any  part  of  the  Alle- 
ghany range.  Like  other  localities  in  the  older  and  densely 
populated  portions  of  the  United  States,  such  as  the  Adiron- 
dacks  and  Cheat  River  tract,  which  have  been  left  unsettled 
by  reason  of  their  unfitness  for  agriculture,  or  from  other 


84  THE  ALLEGHAKIES. 

causes,  this  section  remains  in  its  primitive  state.  Its  only 
habitations  are  the  cabins  of  hunters  and  a  few  venturesome 
pioneers.    It  abounds  in  trout  and  game  of  all  kinds. 

In  Kettle  Creek,  Powder  Eiver,  Young-woman's  Creek,  and 
all  the  tributaries  of  the  Sinamahoning  Eiver — the  latter  a 
branch  of  the  Susquehanna — the  angler  may  cast  his  line  with 
the  assurance  of  quick  and  full  returns. 

When  my  first  visit  was  made  to  this  region,  many  years 
ago,  it  was  no  trifle  of  an  adventure  to  penetrate  into  its 
jungle ;  but  now  there  are  increased  facilities,  either  by  the 
!EMe  Kailroad  to  Genesee,  or  the  Philadelphia  and  Erie  to  Em- 
porium, and  thence  by  stage  to  Condersport  and  wagon  road 
to  Young-woman's  Town. 

That  this  wilderness  is  not  wholly  without  inducements  to 
immigration  and  settlement,  is  evidenced  by  the  attempt  of 
the  celebrated  "  Ole  Bull,"  twenty-five  years  ago,  to  establish 
a  Norwegian  colony  here.  Eight  in  the  depths  of  the  forest, 
overgrown  with  brambles  and  brush,  and  inhabited  only  by 
hedgehogs  and  owls,  stands  the  castellated  structure  which 
the  sanguine  violinist  fondly  hoped  would  be  the  nucleus  of 
a  flourishing  settlement.  Graded  carriage-roads,  over  which 
no  carriages  ever  rumble,  sweep  up  to  the  door  of  the  man- 
sion. Splendidly  built  log-cabins  surround  it  at  circum- 
scribed and  deferential  distances,  like  the  old-time  negro 
quarter  of  a  Southern  plantation ;  but  decay  is  consuming 
them  gradually,  and  desolation  sits  within  their  doors.  Great 
trees  have  grown  from  their  foundations,  and  saplings  pro- 
trude through  their  roofs.  On  every  side  are  evidences  of  lav- 
ish expenditure  and  misapplied  energy,  just  as  there  are  in 
the  wilderness  of  "  John  Brown's  Tract,"  where  the  old  man's 
son  attempted,  years  ago,  to' establish  iron  works  that  should 
multiply  his  fortune  and  supply  the  world.  Both  efforts 
failed  by  reason  of  their  inaccessible  distance  from  a  market. 
So  completely  overgrown  and  hidden  from  view  is  this  ham- 
let of  Ole  Bull's,  that  one  might  pass  within  a  few  rods  with- 
out perceiving  it.     Here  and  there  a  Norwegian  family  still 


THE  ALLEQHAKIES.  '  85 

lingers  in  the  region,  but  the  country  is  mainly  restored  to 
its  original  possessors,  the  wolves,  the  bears,  and  the  deer. 

Here  in  the  vicinity  once  resided  a  sturdy  old  hunter  and 
trapper,  one  Hubbard  Starkweather,  with  Pritchard,  his 
"  chum."  Starkweather  left  the  country  in  1855,  and  I  after- 
wards accidentally  encountered  him  in  the  "  Big  "Woods  "  of 
Wisconsin ;  he  was  seventy  years  old  then,  and  I  doubt  not 
is  now  "gathered  to  his  fathers." 

Many  are  the  pelts  of  varmints  and  saddles  of  venison  he 
has  "packed'^  out  to  Coudersport  in  the  dead  of  winter; 
many  the  traps  he  has  set  for  mink,  marten,  and  otter ;  many 
the  panthers  he  has  laid  out  "  cold "  in  the  woods.  There 
were  two  fresh  cat-skins  stretched  out  on  the  side  of  his 
shanty  the  first  time  I  pushed  my  way  through  the  under- 
brush up  to  his  door.  Of  royal  blood  was  Starkweather,  the 
son  of  Bernard  Starkweather,  of  Revolutionary  fame — Mor- 
gan's crack  rifleman,  who  carried  on  foot  the  despatch  which 
resulted  in  the  capture  and  surrender  of  Gen.  Burgoyne; 
streaking  it  through  the  woods,  dodging  the  British  scouts, 
and  making  over  fifty  miles  between  sundown  and  sunrise ! 

Pritchard,  his  chum,  was  a  queer  old  "  coon,"  whose  hps 
and  tongue  had  long  been  hermetically  and  continently 
closed  upon  all  social  intercourse  whatever  by  a  misadven- 
ture in  love.  For  weeks  at  a  time  he  never  uttered  a  word. 
Little  was  the  provocation  he  gave  for  quarrel  in  those  days ; 
httle  the  profit  old  Starkweather  derived  from  his  compan- 
ionship, save  the  acquisition  and  compulsory  observance  of 
that  cardinal  virtue,  silence.  It  was  the  same  old  story — a 
clear  case  of  heart-break  for  love.  Pretty  sweet-heart,  when 
he  was  young,  ran  off  with  another  man.  Oh,  the  incon- 
stancy of  woman !  Ah,  the  devotion  of  man !  And  so  the 
sturdy  hunter's  congenial  springs  froze  up !  Long  it  took  to 
dissolve  the  icy  ring  around  his  heart;  rigors  of  weather 
and  hardships  of  fife  gradually  seamed  his  features,  and  his 
hair  grew  white  with  the  frosts  of  winter.  At  length  it  hap- 
pened in  this  wise :  he  "  took  the  rheumatics,"  and  had  a 


86  THE  ALLEGHANIES. 

sort  of  "  warning  attack "  of  partial  paralysis.  Bodily  pain 
and  nervous  anxiety  cut  loose  the  knot  that  tied  up  his 
tongue.  A  httle  warmth  of  the  old  blood  returned — an  in- 
ner consciousness,  an  agreeable  sense  of  a  shadowy  something 
which  loomed  out  of  the  misty  past,  a  yearning  for  that  deh- 
cious  sympathy  and  gentle  touch  of  woman  which  an  old 
man  so  much  appreciates  when  his  steps  grow  feeble  and 
pains  tingle  through  his  bones.    • 

Said  he  to  Starkweather,  one  day,  when  he  was  dubbing  a 
green  pelt  in  the  shanty — said  he :  "  Pardner,  I'm  treed ! " 

A  hound  raised  his  nose  from  his  paws  and  whined  at  the 
unusual  voice,  but  Starkweather  showed  no  sign  of  surprise. 

'•Let  it  out,  old  boss,"  he  rejoined ;  and  went  on  with  his 
graining. 

"  Hubbard,  I'm  afeard  FU  have  to  give  in.  I  aint  no  ac- 
count any  more.  I've  had  this  first  warning  attack,  asd 
they  say  the  third  is  a  settler.  One  of  these  times  when 
you're  off  with  the  traps,  or  out  to  the  settlements,  you'll 
come  back  and  find  me  stiff.  'Twould  be  kinder  hard  to 
drop  off  alone,  old  boss ! " 

"Pshaw!" 

"  Hubbard,  you  must  get  me  a  woman  to  take  care  of  me  1 
I  don't  care  what  sort  she  is,  much ;  only  mind,  Hubbard, 
she  musnH  he  pretty. ^^ 

"  I'll  do  it,  old  chum.  I'll  do  it,  if  it  cost  me  a  fortin. 
Take  another  snooze,  pard,  and  call  the  thing  settled." 

So  the  conversation  terminated,  and  early  the  next  morn- 
ing Starkweather  struck  into  the  woods.  The  "  woman"  he 
brought,  in  course  of  time,  to  the  sylvan  altar,  was  a  "  she- 
Norwegian  "  and  a  widow,  who  couldn't  speak  a  word  of 
English.  That  she  was  plain,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  It 
was  so  named  in  the  contract.  That  she  made  a  good  wife, 
is  equally  certain;  for  the  hunter's  cabin  soon  assumed  a 
vastly  improved  appearance,  as  did  the  "  old  case  "  himself 
He  was  as  good  as  new. 

In  the  course  of  time  there  was  a  wedding  at  Pritchard's. 


THE  ALLEGHAN^IES.  87 

All  the  denizens  of  Potter  and  Elk  were  invited.  The  girl 
was  spliced.  The  stalwart  backwoodsmen,  in  brand  new 
suits  of  homespun  and  shirts  of  gaudy  calicp,  smacked  the 
blushing  bride  in  due  and  proper  form,  and  drank  the  health 
of  the  happy  pair  in  bumpers  full.  Then  the  fiddler  was 
hoisted  upon  a  chest ;  and  when  old  Pritchard  himself  flung 
his  sturdy  arm  around  his  step-daughter's  plump  waist,  and 
"clar'd  the  floor"  for  a  dance  which  he  called  "French 
fours,"  he  seemed  to  mean  that  as  much  dancing  as  four  or- 
dinary persons  could  do  in  the  same  time  should  be  done 
then  and  there  in  a  style  as  far  from  French  as  possible. 

And  it  was  done,  you  may  depend.  Modern  dancers 
couldn't  shine  in  that  crowd.  Long  were  the  festivities  pro- 
tracted ;  and  when  the  catgut  ceased  to  scrape  at  last,  and 
the  final  bumper  was  swallowed,  it  is  not  denied  that  some 
who  sought  their  homes  in  the  trackless  gloom  of  the  woods, 
awoke  in  the  morning  with  only  a  blue  sky  for  a  canopy. 

Mention  should  not  be  omitted  of  one  other  resort — the 
Catskills.  If  they  cannot  be  recommended  as  first-class 
fishing-ground,  they  ought,  nevertheless,  to  be  reverently 
regarded,  for  their  history  is  made  classic  by  association  with 
such  proud  names  as  Cooper,  Irving,  Bryant,  and  Cole. 
Once  the  waters  of  the  Kauterskill  and  the  Plauterskill 
abounded  with  trout,  and  doubtless  years  ago  yielded  fre- 
quent tribute  to  the  cunning  hand  of  the  veritable  Rip  Van 
Winkle  himself.  Certain  it  is  that  they  were  the  favorite 
resort  of  anglers  of  no  mean  standing  in  their  profession — 
men  whom  a  love  of  nature  in  its  purity  led  apart  from  the 
noise  and  stir  of  the  busy  metropolis  below,  to  worship  in 
these  mountain  cloves.  In  the  Esopus,  too,  and  in  Sweet- 
water Brook,  Shews'  Lake,  Schoharie  Creek,  and  Roaring 
Kill,  the  tiny  splash  of  the  trout  was  heard  at  early  dawn, 
and  anglers,  who  tried  their  luck  at  favorable  seasons,  re- 
turned to  town  with  strings  that  numbered  hundreds.  But 
these  streams  have  been  sadly  depleted  since ;  and  although 
they  afford  fair  sport  for  summer  guests  of  the  great  moun- 


88  THE  ALLEGHAKIES. 

tain  hotels,  the  ambitious  angler  looketh  elsewhere  for  his 
trophies.  Many  are  the  rambles  I've  enjoyed  among  these 
mountain  nooks. 

"  Pleasant  have  been  such  hours,  and  though  the  wise 
Have  said  that  I  was  indolent,  and  they 
Who  taught  me  have  reproved  me  that  I  played 
The  truant  in  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
I  deem  it  true  philosophy  in  him 
Whose  path  leads  to  the  rude  and  busy  world, 
To  loiter  with  these  wayside  comforters." 


NE^V    ENGLAND    AND    THE 
AROOSTOOK.* 


I  HEN  I  was  a  mere  lad  travelers  took  stage  or 
steamboat  from  New  York  for  New  Haven,  the  rail- 
road to  Hartford,  a  "  stern-wheeler  "  up  the  Connec- 
ticut Kiver  to  Springfield,  stage  to  Northampton, 
and  any  available  conveyance  to  indefinite  regions 
beyond.  I  remember  making  the  entire  journey  in  an  old 
rumbling  parallelogram  buttoned  in  hermetically  by  close 
glazed  curtains,  with  a  water-bucket  slung  under  the  axle  be- 
hind. Those  were  comparatively  primitive  times.  Manu- 
factories had  not  utilized  every  cubic  foot  of  running  water, 
and  each  wayside  stream  afibrded  sport  for  the  angler. 
Only  twenty-three  years  ago  it  was  considered  a  wonderful 
stride  in  the  march  of  improvement  when  the  Connecticut 
River  was  dammed  at  Holyoke  and  the  foundations  of  a  brick 
city  were  laid ;  but  it  was  death  to  salmon  and  shad.  Civil- 
ization and  trout,  it  is  said,  cannot  exist  together ;  and  hke- 
wise  salmon.  Where  now  are  the  speckled  beauties  that 
once  swarmed  and  multiplied  in  every  brook  and  rivulet  ? 
Wliere  are  the  salmon  that  skulled  their  way  to  the  head- 
waters of  the  noble  Connecticut,  the  Merrimack,  the  Penob- 
scot, the  Kennebec,  Aroostook,  and  the  other  rivers  of  Maine  ? 

*  See  Harper's  Magazme,  Vol.  XXVII. ,  page  688. 


90  NEW  ENGLAND  AND  THE  AKOOSTOOK. 

Time  was  when  the  Green  and  White  Mountains  were  the 
Arcadia  of  the  angler.  When  a  lad  I  could  catch  trout  ad 
libitum  among  the  Hampshire  and  Berkshire  hills  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  a  basket  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  per  day  was 
nothing  remarkable ;  but  those  streams  are  sadly  depleted 
now.  Nevertheless  there  are  numerous  localities  throughout 
New  England,  setting  Maine  aside,  which  eyen  now  yield  a 
fair  reward  to  the  patient  and  dexterous  angler. 

There  are  the  Yantic  and  the  Quinnebaug,  tributaries  of 
the  Thames  in  Connecticut,  easily  accessible  from  New  Lon- 
don and  Norwich,  and  flowing  through  a  richly  cultivated 
farming  country,  with  comparatively  few  factories  to  destroy 
their  natural  attractions. 

On  the  Marshpee  and  other  streams  of  the  Cape  Cod  pen- 
insula fair  trouting  can  be  found.  This  and  the  Marshfield 
district  are  much  favored  by  Bostonians  who  seek  a  day's 
fishing  near  home. 

The  Blackberry  Eiver  and  the  Konkopot,  tributaries  of 
the  Housatonic,  are  easily  reached  by  the  Housatonic  Eail- 
i-oad  from  Bridgeport,  Ct.  They  flow  through  one  of  the 
most  charming  sections  of  the  Berkshire  hills,  and  within 
view  of  "  Greylock  "  Mountain.  Sheffield,  on  the  Connecti- 
cut State  line,  is  a  good  starting-point  for  the  angler,  who 
will  meet  with  success  commensurate  with  his  efforts.  In- 
deed, in  nearly  all  the  more  sparsely-settled  districts  of  Con- 
necticut and  Massachusetts  some  remnants  of  the  aboriginal 
Salmo  fontinalis  can  be  found. 

And  what  shall  be  said  of  the  mountain  fegion  of  Ver- 
mont or  the  grand  old  White  Hills  of  New  Hampshire  ?  Are 
they  not  annually  the  resort  of  thousands  of  tourists  and 
anglers,  to  whom  each  river,  brook  and  stream  is  as  a  familiar 
face  and  household  word  ?  Very  different  in  their  general 
features  are  the  White  Mountains  from  the  Adirondacks. 
The  latter  impress  by  the  immensity  of  their  huge  propor- 
tions and  the  grandeur  of  their  outlines.  They  convey  to  the 
beholder  an  idea  of  ilUmitable  extent.    From  almost  any 


iq^EW  EKGLAKD  Al^^D  THE  AROOSTOOK.  91 

standpoint  of  man's  ordinary  level  can  be  seen  an  amphi- 
theatre of  Titanic  proportions — vast  valleys  sweeping  away 
into  indefinite  space ;  sky-splitting  peaks  of  every  conceivable 
size  and  shape  standing  solitary  in  the  solitude ;  blue  ranges 
of  mountains  trending  in  double  and  triple  phalanx  to  the 
farthest  limit  of  vision  ;  great  lakes  diminished  by  distance 
to  globules  that  gleam  in  their  emerald  settings  like  the  hght 
of  reflected  stars.  Among  the  White  Mountains  the  view  is 
always  more  contracted,  unless  one  mounts  to  the  highest 
summits,  and  from  Mount  Adams  or  Washington  takes  in  at 
a  glance  that  marvelous  photograph  of  inconceivable  im- 
mensity which  is  defined  over  an  area  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  That  view,  indeed,  to  mortal  eyes  is  like  a 
glimpse  of  eternity.  Ordinarily,  however,  the  tourist  who 
picks  his  way  along  the  roads  and  by-paths  that  skirt  the 
bases  of  this  labyrinth  of  peaks,  sees  little  more  than  the 
vista  directly  before  him  and  the  cumulose  forests  and  crags 
that  climb  to  the  clouds.  Down  at  the  bottoms  of  these  de- 
files, the  prevailing  sense  is  one  of  shadow  and  gloom.  The 
scenery  here  is  Alpine  in  its  features — mountains  of  granite 
piled  together,  broken  by  gorges,  slashed  by  ravines,  yawn- 
ing with  chasms,  and  dashed  by  torrents  and  cascades  that 
tumble  from  hidden  places  and  presently  vanish  into  gloom. 
All  the  year  round  the  snow  lies  in  the  nethermost  rifts, 
and  the  water  that  drains  from  its  melting  in  summer  cools 
the  streamlets  to  a  temperature  delicious  for  trout.  No  saw- 
dust or  tanbark  from  mills  will  ever  pollute  their  purity  or 
curtail  their  God-given  privileges.  The  forest  will  remain 
primeval  always,  and  trout  will  probably  be  found  wherever 
the  angler's  perseverance  or  curiosity  may  lead  him.  There 
is  no  more  favorite  region  for  the  summer  rambler,  be  he 
sportsman  or  merely  refugee  from  business  cares.  Last  year 
was  completed  a  grand  tour  by  which  all  the  hotels  and 
localities  of  interest  can  be  successively  visited.  Therefore 
it  matters  little  whether  the  tourist  who  wishes  to  "  do  "  the 
White  Mountains  takes  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  to  Gorham, 


92  NEW  EI^GLAiq^D  AI^fD  THE  AKOOSTOOK. 

the  Connecticut  Valley  Eoad  to  Littleton  and  Whitefield, 
the  Portsmouth  and  Great  Falls  Railroad  to  Conway,  or  the 
Portland  and  Ogdensburg  Railroad  to  North  Conway — of 
which  the  two  latter,  not  yet  finished,  will  be  completed  this 
summer.  ^ 

■  Not  to  mention  categorically  those  lakes,  hke  Magog,  Se- 
bago,  and  Winnipiseogee,  which  lie  in  the  path  of  summer 
travel,  and  are  resorts  for  loungers  rather  than  for  anglers, 
I  proceed  to  regions  more  congenial. 

Maine  !  There  is  no  region  in  the  United  States  (I  speak 
advisedly)  equal  to  it.  As  to  fishing,  who  that  has  ever  wet 
his  line  in  these  waters  could  thereafter  be  content  to  angle 
elsewhere,  unless  it  be  in  tlie  more  distant  waters  of  the 
Canadian  Dominion?  The  orthodox  sportsman  may  here 
roam  from  stream  to  stream,  and  cast  his  fly  with  a  certainty 
of  success  and  liberal  reward  which  might  well  excite  the 
envy  of  many  a  trans-Atlantic  angler.  Let  the  rambler 
make  his  camp  on  whatever  lake  or  stream  he  will,  it  is  all 
the  same,  whether  it  be  in  the  St.  Croix  country,  the  region 
of  Moosehead  Lake,  or  the  more  northern  waters  of  the 
Aroostook ;  whether  along  some  one  of  the  dozen  romantic 
tributaries  of  the  Penobscot,  the  Kennebec,  and  St.  John,  or 
on  the  margin  of  the  magnificent  lakes  in  which  they  invari- 
ably have  their  sources — lakes  w4th  euphonious  names  and 
unpronounceable  names — lakes  called  Wassataquoik,  Chesun- 
cook,  Mooseluckmaguntic,  Bamedumphok,  Pangokwahem, 
Umsaskis,  Madongamook,  Raumchemingamook !  Maine  is 
emphatically  a  country  of  lakes  and  streams.  There  are  no 
mountain  ranges  in  Maine.  But  isolated  and  cloud-capped 
peaks  stand  out  in  solitary  grandeur  from  the  comparatively 
level  tracts  surrounding,  inviting  wonder  and  admiration. 
Of  these  the  number  is  large,  the  most  prominent  being  the 
Sugar  Loaf,  Katahdin,  Abraham,  Chase's,  and  Mount  Blue. 

Moosehead  Lake,  long  a  sequestered  haunt  of  the  ambi- 
tious sportsman,  and  the  grand  centre  of  a  vast  wilderness 
region,  has  experienced  the  fate  of  the  Adirondacks,  and. 


NEW  El^GLAND  A^B  THE  AROOSTOOK.  93 

been  "  thrown  open  to  the  pubhc."  Its  natural  outlet,  the 
Kennebec,  was  long  the  highway  for  the  lumberman.  Down 
its  rushing  tide  millions  of  logs  were  borne  on  spring  freshets 
to  the  mills  and  seaboard  below ;  and  when  the  logging  busi- 
ness grew  to  gigantic  proportions,  and  the  ravages  of  the  axe 
had  stripped  the  nearest  accessible  forests  of  their  wealth  of 
timber,  steam-tugs  were  employed  to  haul  great  rafts  of  logs 
from  the  head  of  the  lake  to  its  outlet.  This  was  the  enter- 
ing wedge  that  rived  its  portals.  Soon  an  excursion  steam- 
boat was  placed  upon  the  lake,  and  hotels  were  built  at 
eligible  points.  The  Kennebec  Railroad  extended  its  iron 
highway  from  the  Atlantic  and  Androscoggin  Railroad  to 
Carritunk  Falls ;  and  from  th  *  point  stages  now  run  to  the 
lake.  This  splendid  fishing-ground  is  accessible  by  an  easy 
journey  from  Portland.  Hither  the  ladies  come  in  the  sum- 
mer days  with  their  "  pianos  and  parasols,"  and  share  with 
the  rougher  sex  the  pleasures  of  the  wilderness. ,  Tents  dot 
the  islands  and  shores,  fishing-boats  traverse  its  tranquil 
waters,  and  music  floats  sweetly  at  eventide  over  its  waves. 
Its  whole  extent  from  north  to  south  is  about  forty  miles, 
and  varies  in  width  from  one  to  eight.  It  is  very  irregular 
in  shape,  deeply  indented  with  bays  and  coves,  and  diversi- 
fied with  numerous  islands.  Many  of  these  are  mere  ledges 
of  rock,  covered  with  a  scanty  growth  of  cedar  and  fir,  with 
shores  that  drop  perpendicularly  into  the  water  to  a  depth 
of  eighty  or  ninety  feet.  On  the  eastern  side  of  the  lake, 
opposite  the  mouth  of  Moose  River,  Mount  Kihneo  rises 
abruptly  fr'om  the  water  like  a  huge  artificial  waU  to  the 
height  of  six  hundred  feet,  and  close  to  its  sombre  sides  the 
largest  ship  might  float.  This  lake  abounds  in  "  tuladi "  or 
salmon  trout,  and  its  tributaries  with  speckled  trout  that 
weigh  from  one  to  three  pounds. 

The  Umbagog  chain  of  lakes  includes  the  Rangely, 
Oquossoc,  and  Mollychunkamunk,  and  are  famous  for  their 
monster  trout  {Salmo  fontinalis^,  which  have  been  taken 
weighing  as  high  as  twelve  pounds !    These  lakes  are  the 


94  NEW  ENGLAND   AND  THE  AROOSTOOK. 

grand  reservoirs  of  the  Androscoggin  River ;  they  are  sur- 
rounded by  lofty  mountains,  and  present  more  attractions  to 
the  lovers  of  the  picturesque  than  any  similar  scenery  in 
New  England.  They  have  long  been  the  IJtopia  of  hunters 
and  anglers.  Though  little  visited  by  the  general  public,  they 
are  much  resorted  to  by  members  of  the  "  Oquossoc  Club," 
who  own  a  house,  boats,  and  several  hundred  acres  of  land  at 
Eangely.  The  club  comprises  some  seventy  or  eighty  gen- 
tlemen, chiefly  from  the  vicinity  of  New  York,  who  also  con- 
trol the  Sandy  River  Ponds  adjacent.  These  are  the  sources 
of  the  Sandy  River,  a  tributary  of  the  Kennebec.  There  is 
another  club-house  at  Middle  Dam  Camp,  which  is  at  the 
foot  of  Mollychunkemunk,  a#&  at  the  head  of  Rapid  River. 

The  Umbagog  lakes  are  most  easily  reached  from  Bethel, 
on  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway,  by  stages  to  Upton.  They  are 
accessible  also  from  Farmington,  on  the  Androscoggin  Rail- 
road, and  thence  by  stage  to  Rangely  via  the  town  of 
Phillips ;  but  the  journey  is  long  and  tedious. 

The  Sebec  chain  of  lakes  in  Piscataquis  county  abound  in 
the  far-famed  landlocked  salmon,  as  do  other  lakes  to  the 
northward.  They  can  be  caught  all  the  year  round,  even  in 
mid-winter  through  the  ice;  but  they  spawn  in  November, 
and  the  fishing  season  par  excellence  is  from  June  to  Sep- 
tember inclusive.  These  lakes  are  reached  from  Sebec 
station  on  the  Piscataquis  Railroad,  and  thence  by  stage  five 
miles  to  the  fishing-grounds.  The  main  lake  is  twelve  miles 
long.  There  are  hotels  both  at  the  upper  and  lower  ends, 
and  the  little  steamer  "Rippling  Wave"  phes  between  in 
the  summer  months,  for  the  convenience  of  tourists  and 
anglers.  Such  bold  biters  are  these  fish,  that  the  boys  cap- 
ture them  by  hundreds  with  merely  a  piece  of  pork  for  bait. 

The  Megalloway  is  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Andros- 
coggin, which  it  joins  a  few  miles  below  its  outlet  from  Um- 
bagog Lake.  It  is  nearly  a  hundred  miles  long,  and  for  a 
considerable  distance  is  tl^e  boundary  between  Maine  and 
New  Hampshire.      It  rises  in  the  Canadian  highlands,  and 


NEW  E:N"GLAND  Al^D  THE  AKOOSTOOK.  95 

flows  with  most  devious  windings  through  mountain  gorges 
of  the  wildest  character,  which  rise  in  places  to  the  height 
of  %  thousand  feet.  It  is  liable  to  sudden  freshets ;  for  in 
rainy  weather  every  rocky  seam  and  channel  contributes  a 
rivulet  or  torrent  to  swell  its  yolume,  and  when  in  full,  im- 
petuous career,  it  empties  itself  into  the  Androscoggin  with 
a  flood  that  raises  its  waters  so  that  they  set  back  into  Um- 
bagog  Lake  for  a  distance  of  two  miles,  having  the  appear- 
ance of  a  river  running  up  stream,  back  to  its  source. 

The  trout  of  the  Megalloway  are  very  abundant,  and  aver- 
age two  or  three  pounds  weight.  ^  Anglers  usually  leave  the 
Grand  Trunk  Kailway  at  Stratford,  take  stage  to  Colebrook, 
wagon  from  there  to  Errol  Falls  on  the  Androscoggin,  then  a 
batteau  up  the  river  to  Durkee's  Landing  on  the  Megalloway, 
and  thence  up  stream  a  two  days  journey  to  Parmachene 
Falls  and  Lake.  The  wagon  road  from  Colebrook  follows 
up  the  valley  of  a  small  stream  called  the  Mohawk,  through 
a  gap  in  the  mountain  ridge,  only  less  famous  than  the  White 
Mountain  Notch  because  more  remote  from  traveled  route ; 
thence  down  the  opposite  slope  through  the  celebrated  "  Dix- 
ville  Notch,"  along  a  path  hewn  into  the  side  of  the  chasm, 
and  just  wide  enough  for  one  wagon  track ;  with  crags  tow- 
ering perpendicularly  above,  and  the  gloomy  gulf  yawning 
below,  on  to  the  valley  of  the  Androscoggin  and  the  basin 
of  Lake  ITmbagog.  There  is  very  comfortable  tavern  accom- 
modation at  the  several  stages  of  the  journey  to  Durkee's. 

I  come  now  to  regions  untainted  by  the  odor  of  lavender 
or  cologne,  where  "  parasols "  never  venture,  and  the  atmos- 
phere is  freighted  with  the  fragrance  of  the  resinous  balsam 
and  pine.  Even  the  axe  of  the  pioneer  lumberman  is  stilled? 
in  the  summer  days,  and  the  birchen  canoe,  ghding  stealth- 
ily into  the  silence  and  solitude  of  unfrequented  places, 
frightens  a  scream  of  terror  from  the  blue  crane  that  flaps 
up  from  the  marsh. 

At  Mattawamkeag,  on  the  European  and  North  American 
Kailway,  fifty-eight  miles  from  Bangor,  where  the  river  of 


96  NEW  El^GLAKD  AND  THE  AROOSTOOK. 

that  name  joins  the  west  branch  of  the  Penobscot,  canoes 
and  Indians  can  be  hired  for  a  voyage  up  the  last-mentioned 
stream  to  Ambijejis,  Chesuncook,  MiUinoket,  Bamedijmp- 
cook,  and  other  lakes  which  constitute  its  head- waters.  The 
scenery  in  some  sections  of  this  wilderness  territory  is  grand 
in  the  extreme.  Its  numerous  waterfalls,  its  swelling  hills, 
and  in  some  instances  towering  mountains,  from  whose  tops 
may  be  counted  an  almost  endless  number  of  lakes,  and  the 
yast  groves  of  towering  pines  scattered  at  intervals  over  mil- 
lions of  acres  of  forest  land,  make  it  altogether  one  of  the 
vrildest  and  most  romanti(^  regions  imaginable.  The  Penob- 
scot Eiver  flows  within  striking  distance  of  Mount  Katah- 
din — one  of  the  most  conspicuous  and  celebrated  of  the 
mountains  of  Maine — an  isolated  peak,  five  thousand  three 
hundred  feet  high,  growing  out  of  the  vast  expanse  of  forest. 
From  a  distance,  looking  westward,  its  upper  outline  resem- 
bles the  entire  face,  figure,  and  form  of  a  recumbent  giant, 
stretched  at  fall  length.  Its  ascent  has  frequently  been  made, 
though  not  without  great  personal  risk.  A  description  of  a 
mountain  so  rarely  visited  and  so  little  known  will  not  be 
amiss  in  these  pages;  it  is  taken  from  Springer's  " Forest 
Life  and  Forest  Trees."  The  ascent  was  made  in  the  early 
part  of  September. 

"A  *  slide  Vserves  as  a  path  to  the  top  of  the  southeastern 
ridge,  which  is  above  aU  timber  growth,  and  about  two-thirds 
of  the  whole .  perpendicular  height.  From  the  head  of  the 
slide  we  ascended  to  the  most  eastern  peak.  It  is  perhaps 
the  most  favorable  spot  for  viewing  the  whole  structure. 
From  thence  the  primeval  peaks  are  in  a  curved  line,  going 
fiouthwest,  then  west  and  northwest.  The  second  peak,  called 
the  '  Chimney,'  is  nearly  square  in  form,  and  separated  from 
the  first  by  a  sharp  cut,  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hun- 
dred feet  deep.  Ascending  the  Chimney  we  went  from  one 
hummock  to  another,  making  on  the  whole  a  gradual  ascent 
till  we  reached  the  middle  of  the  principal  peaks,  a  distance 
of  nearly  half-a-mile.    Here  V*"e  found  a  monument  that  had 


NEW  EKGLAKD  AKD  THE  AKOOSTOOK.  97 

been  erected  by  some  former  visitor,  but  overgrown  with  moss. 
While  sitting  on  the  south  side  of  the  monument  at  twelve 
o'clock,  we  put  the  thermometer  in  a  favorable  place,  and 
it  went  up  to  84°.  At  the  same  time,  on  the  noi:th  side, 
six  feet  from  us,  water  was  freezing  and  the  snow  dry  and 
crusty. 

"  From  the  eastern  peak  a  spur  makes  out  eastward  a  dis- 
tance of  one  mile.  Half-a-mile  down,  however,  it  divides, 
and  a  branch  runs  to  the  northeast  the  same  distance.  On 
the  southwest,  across  the  out,  is  the  'Chimney.'  From  this 
the  line  of  peaks  and  hummocks  curves  to  the  west  till  it 
reaches  the  middle  and  highest  peak.  From  one  hummock 
to  the  other  there  are  in  all  thirty  rods  of  narrow  passes ; 
some  of  them  are  so  narrow  that  a  man  could  drop  a  stone 
from  either  haiid,  and  it  would  go  to  unknown  depths  below. 
In  some  places  the  only  possible  way  is  over  the  top,  and 
only  one  foot  wide.  For  a  great  part  of  the  time  the  wind 
blows  across  these  passes  so  violently  that  the  stones  them- 
selves have  to  be  firmly  fixed  to  keep  their  places.  All  these 
peaks  and  spurs  inclose  a  deep  basin,  with  walls  almost  per- 
pendicular, and  in  some  places  apparently  two  thousand  feet 
high.  It  contains  perhaps  two  hundred  acres,  covered  with 
large  square  blocks  of  granite  that  seem  to  have  come  from 
the  surrounding  walls.  There  are  in  it  six  lakes  and  ponds, 
varying  in  size  from  two  to  ten  acres.  It  is  easy  to  see  the 
origin  of  those  fears  which  the  Indians  are  said  to  have  re- 
specting the  mountain  as  the  residence  of  Pamolah,  or  Big 
Devil.  Clouds  form  in  the  basin,  and  are  seen  whirhng  out 
in  all  directions.  Tradition  tells  of  a  handsome  squaw 
among  the  Penobscots,  who  once  did  a  great  business  in 
slaying  her  thousands  among  the  young  chiefs  of  her  nation, 
but  was  finally  taken  by  Pamolah  to  Katahdin,  where  he 
now  protects  himself  and  his  prize  from  approaching  Indians 
with  all  his  artillery  of  thunder  and  hail.  Whether  this  be 
true  or  not,  the  basin  is  the  birthplace  of  storms,  and  I  my- 
self have  heard  the  roar  of  its  winds  for  several  miles.  The 
7 


98  NEW  ENGLAND  AND  THE  AROOSTOOK. 

mountain  around  this  basin  is  in  the  form  of  a  horseshoe, 
opening  to  the  northeast.  From  the  peak  on  the  northern 
wing  there  is  another  deep  gorge,  partly  encircled"  with  a 
curving  ridge,  which  some  would  call  another  basin,  which 
opens  to  the  southeast :  these  two  basins,  from  some  points 
of  view,  seem  to  be  one.  The  structure  of  the  mountain 
is  an  immense  ^curiosity.  From  its  summit  yery  few  popu- 
lous places  are  visible,  so  extensive  is  the  intervening  wilder- 
ness. Not  far  from  two  hundred  lakes  can  be  seen  dotting 
the  landscape ;  in  one  of  these  we  can  count  one  hundred 
islands." 

From  Mattawamkeag  there  is  an  all-rail  route  to  St.  Croix 
station  at  the  foot  of  the  eastern  Schoodic  or  Grand  Lake, 
and  thence  by  the  St.  Andrews  Eailroad  to  Houlton ;  thence 
stage  to  Presque  Isle  on  the  Aroostook  Eiver.  In  the  vicin- 
ity of  both  these  places  is  good  trout-fishing,  and  at  the  lat- 
ter place,  in  1859, 1  took  a  salmon  from  the  bridge  on  the 
edge  of  the  village.  In  that  year  I  made  a  tour  of  the  entire 
Aroostook  country  by  stage  and  wagon,  covering  a  period  of 
several  weeks,  and  the  information  I  am  now  able  to  give  is 
obtained  chiefly  from  personal  experience  and  observation 
then  made.  From  Presque  Isle  there  is  a  good  road  due 
north,  which  strikes  the  Acadian  settlement  of  Madawaska, 
on  the  upper  St.  John,  near  the  middle  chapel.  A  most 
excellent  road  follows  up  the  St.  John  to  Fort  Kent  on  the 
Fish  Eiver,  traversed  daily  by  that  portion  of  its  six  thou- 
sand inhabitants  who  occupy  the  American  side.  Fish  Eiver 
is  the  outlet  of  numerous  lakes  which  connect  with  each 
other,  and  thereby  render  a  canoe  voyage  easy  and  agree- 
able. Several  of  these  lakes  are  merely  wide  expanses  of 
Fish  Eiver,  and  a  good  road  follows  its  course  for  thirty 
miles,  and  then  continues  on  down  through  the  Aroostook, 
back  to  Mattawamkeag,  in  a  line  parallel  to  and  twenty 
miles  distant  from  the  old  military  road  that  passes  through 
Houlton.  There  are  four  or  five  small  villages  on  its  route. 
The  intervening  belt  of  country  is  an  uninhabited  wilder- 


NEW  e;n'gla]s-d  an^d  the  akoostook.  99 

ness,  crossed  laterally  by  roads  at  only  two  points  in  a  dis- 
tance of  ninety-five  miles. 

The  Allagash  and  Walloostook  are  the  most  northern  and 
western  rivers  of  Maine,  and  head  in  a  region  of  numerous 
lakes.  All  these  waters  abound  in  trout,  but  none  which 
debouch  above  the  Grand  Falls  of  the  St.  John  contain  sal- 
mon. The  Falls  are  seventy-five  feet  high,  and  no  salmon 
could  mahe  that  leap. 


THE     SCHOODICS 


'HE  Schoodic  or  St.  Croix  Eiver  is  the  first  link  in 
the  dividing  line  that  separates  the  State  of  Maine 
from  the  Province  of  New  Brunswick.  It  has  two 
branches,  each  heading  in  a  chain  of  large  and 
small  lakes  called  Schoodics,  though  they  are  more 
generally  recognized  as  the  Eastern  and" Western  "Grand 
Lakes,"  and  the  St.  Croix  Eiver  itself,  at  these  points,  as 
the  "Grand  Lake  Stream."  Again,  the  largest  body  of 
water  in  each  group  is  known  individually  and  distinctively 
as  Grand  Lake.  On  some  maps  the  eastern  group  is  desig- 
nated as  the  Chepetnacooks,  and  the  western  as  the  Schoo- 
dics ;  the  first  named  are  reached  from  Bangor  by  the  Euro- 
pean and  North  American  Eailway,  which  crosses  the  river 
at  a  station  called  St.  Croix  ;  or  by  the  Calais  and  Houlton 
stage  road,  which  touches  Grand  Lake  at  a  village  named 
Weston.  Here  boats  and  canoes  are  fumi^ed.  The  other 
chain  is  reached  by  steamer  from  Portland  to  Eastport  and 
Calais,  and  thence  by  the  Calais  and  Lewy's  Island  Eailroad 
to  Princeton,  where  a  miniature  steamer  is  in  readiness  to 
take  parties  up  and  down  the  lakes. 

In  the  Indian  vernacular,  Schoodic,  or  Mschoodiac,  signifies 
"  open  space"  or  "  wide  prospect  waters,"  referring  either  to  the 
wide  expanse  of  the  lakes  themselves,  or  to  the  immense  fields 
of  meadow-land  which  abound  in  the  whole  region. 


THE  SCHOODICS.  101 

The  Schoodics  are  the  home  of  the  "Land-locked  salr 
mon."  If  it  be  that  this  peculiar  species  of  delicious  and 
gamey  fish  exists  in  other  waters,  it  is  nevertheless  identified 
always  with,  the  charming  lakes  and  streams  designated  as 
above.  There  has  been  much  controversy  among  ichthy- 
ologists in  determining  its  status  in  the  Salmo  family. 
It  so  nearly  resembles  the  Salmo  solar  in  its  appearance  and 
habits  that  it  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  they  are  a  distinct 
species  of  fish,  or  merely  their  degenerated  progeny,  by 
some  means  imprisoned  in  the  lakes  and  debarred  from  ac- 
cess to  the  ocean.  In  size  and  general  external  appear- 
ance it  resembles  the  grilse  more  completely  than  the  ma- 
ture salmon.  The  scales  of  both  are  ellipsoid.  As  respects 
the,  skeleton,  the  texture  and  color  of  the  flesh,  the  location 
and  number  of  the  fins,  and  the  number  of  fin-rays,  they 
are  identical,  varying  only  in.  the  number  of  anal  and  dor- 
sal fin-rays,  to  which  ichthyologists  pay  little  or  no  attention, 
as  they  are  found  not  to  be  constant  in  the  true  salmon. 
There  is,  however,  a  certain  golden  sheen  that  illumines  the 
land-locked  salmon  when  first  caught,  which  does  not  char- 
acterize his  congener.  Both  species  spawn  about  the  same 
time  in  the  shallows  of  fresh-water  streams.  The  period  of 
incubation  is  the  same.  The  color  of  the  fry  is  about  the 
same,  that  of  the  true  salmon  being  perhaps  a  trifle  darker. 
The  chief  difierence  is  in  size,  and  it  is  not  unreasonable  to 
attribute  this  to  difference  in  feeding-grounds,  those  of  the 
sea  affording  more  abundant  nourishing  food.  .  Agassiz  at 
first  decided  that  it  was  a  degenerated  salmon,  but  after- 
wards saw  reason  to  change  his  opinion,  in  consequence  of 
inspecting  the  "  Loch  Lomond "  trout  of  New  Brunswick, 
which  are  the  exact  counterparts  of  the  St.  Croix  .salmon  in 
size  and  general  external  appearance.  William  H.  Venning, 
Esq.,  inspector  of  fisheries  for  the  Provinces  of  Nova  Scotia 
and  New  Brunswick-^a  gentleman  exceedingly  well  versed 
in  the  natural  history  of  the  salmon,  and  selected  for  his 
official  position  by  reason  of  his  thorough  qualifications— 'has 


102  THE  SCHOODICS. 

published  his  opinion  that  they  are  a  distinct  species.    He 
writes : 

"  They  are  called  *  Land-locked  salmon/  But  from  the  po- 
sition and  general  features  of  this  extensive  chain  of  lakes,  I 
cannot  understand  the  possibility  of  the  fish  ever  having 
been  land-locked,  which  they  certainly  are  not  at  present. 
On  the  supposition  that  they  are  degenerated  salmon,  they 
must  have  had,  previous  to  their  becoming  degenerated,  free 
access  to  and  from  the  sea,  or  else  there  could  have  been  no 
salmon  to  become  land-locked.  The  head  of  water  occasioned 
by  shutting  the  gates  of  the  dam  for  only  twenty-four  hours 
[there  is  a  dam  at  the  outlet  of  Grand  Lake  and  at  Prince- 
ton, and  others  below],  shows  that  some  outlet  mnst  always 
have  existed.  Were  this  outlet  to  become  stopped  by  any 
sudden  change  in  the  level  of  the  country,  through  volcanic 
09  aqueous  agency,  so  immense  a  body  of  water,  augmented 
by  the  melting  snows  of  winter  and  the  copious  rains  of 
summer,  which  pour  into  it  from  the  hills  on  every  side, 
would  soon  have  found  another ;  audit  is  hard  to  conceive 
that  so  active  a  fish  as  a  salmon  could  ever  have  been  land- 
locked in  this  chain  of  lakes.  The  instinct  of  the  salmon  to 
reach  salt-water  is  so  strong  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
the  fish  would  ever  entirely  lose  it ;  while  it  is  not  yet  settled 
beyond  a  doubt  that  the  salmon  will  live  and  propagate  if 
deprived  of  periodical  visits  to  the  sea.  The  land-locked  sal- 
mon of  Sweden  are  now  believed  to  be  distinct  from  the 
Salmo  solar. 

"  That  some  fish  occasionally  stray  down  the  stream,  and 
even  get  below  the  dams,  is  natural  enough ;  but  it  by  no 
means  favors  the  idea  that  the  instinct  of  the  fish  urges  it  to 
seek  the  sea.  Were  this  the  case,  the  lakes  and  streams 
would  soon  be  deserted ;  for,  while  there  is  no  obstacle  to 
their  descent,  their  return  is  impossible  in  consequence  of 
the  dams.  As  we  know  that  the  St.  Croix  throughout  its 
whole  length  was  a  fine  salmon  stream  previous  to  the  erec- 
tion of  the  dams  at  Milltown,  we  should  have  to  admit  that 


THE  SCHOODICS.  103 

the  perfect  salmon  and  the  degenerated  salmon  frequented 
the  same  stream,  and  that,  under  precisely  similar  conditions, 
they  had  very  dissimilar  habits.  This,  I  think,  would  con- 
stitute a  distinct  species.'' 

The  Loch  Lomond  trout,  already  alluded  to,  inhabit  a 
restricted  range  of  three  lakes  near  St.  John,  and  have  never 
been  found  elsewhere,  so  far  as  known,  although  there  are 
several  smaller  lakes  emptying  into  the- chain.  It  has  never 
been  debarred  from  the  sea;  but,  as  far  as  has  been  ascer- 
tainedi  it  never  goes  to  salt  water.  Although  exactly  resem- 
bling the  St.  Croix  salmon  externally,  their  flesh  is  white, 
coarse,  and  comparatively  unpalatable,  while  the  latter  is 
pink  and  delicious  in  flavor.  Hence,  it  has  been  contended 
that  these  again  are  a  distinct  species,  and  I  have  so  located 
them  in  my  classification  of  Salmonidao  given  in  Part  I.  of 
this  book.  Mr.  Venning  states  that  the  land-locked  salmon 
wer^  formerly  taken  in  Lake  Sebago,  sometimes  as  heavy  as 
three  or  four  pounds ;  but  since  the  erection  of  a  dam  at  the 
foot  of  the  lake  they  have  become  rare  and  have  almost  dis- 
appeared. What  makes  the  question  more  interesting  is  the 
fact  that  the  fish,  confined  to  the  river  since  the  erection  of 
the  dam,  have  diminished  in  size,  and  their  flesh  has  become 
white.    Mr.  Yenning  writes : 

"  I  had  no  difficulty  in  identifying  it  with  the  trout  of 
Loch  Lomond.  It  corresponded  in  every  respect  with  that 
fish ;  even  to  the  trial  of  the  flesh.  I  took  some  trouble  to 
get  information  on  the  subject,  and  one  piece  of  information 
I  ferreted  out  rather  supports  the  theory  that  the  fish  is,  in 
some  way,  descended  from  the  true  salmon.  In  the  course 
of  my  inquiries,  I  was  informed  by  Mr.  Thomas  Traffcon— a 
hale,  vigorous  old  gentleman  of  seventy-nine  years,  who  still 
retains  his  fondness  for  angling,  and  a  distinct  recollection 
of  the  time  when  the  fish  was  not  a  denizen  of  Loch  Lomond 
— that,  previous  to  the  erection  of  the  dam  at  the  mouth  of 
Mispeck  River,  which  empties  the  waters  of  Loch  Lomond 
into  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  salmon  used  to  frequent  the  stream 


104  THE  SCHOODICS. 

to  spawn.  At  that  time,  he  is  positive  that  the  fish  I  speak 
of  was  not  known  in  our  waters ;  soon  after  the  dam  was 
built,  which  effectually  prevented  the  ascent  of  the  salmon, 
these  white  trout  made  their  appearance  in  the  lower  lakes 
of  the  chain,  and,  as  in  the  case  with  the  St.  Croix  trout  or 
salmon,  they  congregated  in  large  numbers  at  the  foot  of  the 
lake  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  ice  in  the  spring.  They  were 
then  very  large,  often  reaching  four  or  five  pounds,  and  a 
small  one  was  seldom  seen ;  but  now  the  large  fish  have  be- 
come rare,  while  the  whole  chain  of  lakes  abounds  in  vast 
numbers  of  smaller  fish  of  the  same  species,  seldom  exceeding 
a  pound  in  weight,  and  often  caught  as  small  as  a  half  or 
even  a  quarter  of  a  pound.  They  have  increased  just  in  pro- 
portion as  the  speckled  trout  have  decreased,  until,  at  present, 
the. latter  are  becoming  very  scarce,  where  formerly  they 
abounded  in  great  numbers. 

"  The  supposition  of  hybridity  scarcely  offers  a  probable 
solution  of  these  enigmas ;  for,  in  both  these  fish  the  only 
possible  solution  is  that  they  are  hybrids  between  the  salmon 
and  the  trout.  Now,  we  know  that  trout  will  devour  sal- 
mon ova,  and  salmon  devour  trout  ova.  But  suppose  this 
difficulty  overcome,  and  that,  by  some  perversion  of  instinct, 
a  hybrid  were  produced  by  a  female  salmon  and  a  male  trout, 
or  by  a  male  salmon  and  a  female  trout ;  as  both  these  fish 
visit  the  sea,  it  is  hard  to  suppose  their  mixed  progeny  would 
be  averse  to  it.  If  specimens  of  the  Sebago  and  St.  Croix 
trout  were  compared  together  and  with  the  true  salmon,  I 
think  a  naturalist  would  be  enabled  to  arrive  at  a  decided 
opinion."      . 

Since  the  foregoing  was  written,  Mr.  Yenning,  with  the 
assistance  of  Mr.  C.  G.  Atkins,  Fishery  Commissioner  of 
Maine,  has  succeeded  in  opening  the  dams  on  the  St.  Croix 
River,  and  providing  fish-ways,  over  which  fish,  including  the 
true  salmon,  have  passed  up  stream  in  great  numbers.  This 
intricate  problem  of  the  land-locked  salmon  is  therefore  likely 
to  be  satisfactorily  solved  at  no  distant  day. 


I 


THE  SCHOODICS.  105 

The  land-locked  salmon  average  about  two  pounds  and  a 
lialf  in  weight,  and  are  taken  from  early  spring,  when  the  ice 
breaks  up,  until  late  in  the  autumn.  They  are  perhaps 
more  numerous  in  the  spring  than  during  the  summer  and 
autumn,  but.  their  average  size  is  less,  and  they  are.  more 
scattered  about  the  stream ;  neither  are  they  so  strong  or  so 
active.  At  this  season  they  seldom  exceed  a  pound  in  weight. 
Nevertheless,  many  anglers  prefer  the  early  fishing,  on 
account  of  the  immunity  from  black  flies,  which  swarm  here 
in  the  months  of  June  and  July  to  that  extent  that  angling 
becomes  a  penance  and  a  misery.  In  the  autumn  the  small 
fish  appear  to  have  attained  a  uniform  size  of  about  two 
pounds,  while  frequent  capture  is  made  of  those  weighing 
from  two  and  a  half  to  three  pounds,  and  occasionally  of  a 
four-pounder.  The  most  kiUing  flies  are  the  yellow  May- 
fly, the  silver-gray,  with  black  head,  the  orange-brown 
hackle,  with  black  head  and  gray  wing,  and  the  yellow  May- 
fly, with  turkey  wing,  all  dressed  on  No.  0  hooks.  These  flies 
can  be  obtained  from  Andrew  Gierke,  Maiden  Lane,  New 
York,  and  from  Dingee  Scribner,  St.  John,  N.  B. 

The  angler  who  has  taken  the  Intercolonial  steamer  from 
Boston  via  Portland,  will  find  the  river  steamboat  "  Queen  " 
awaiting  his  arrival  in  Eastport,  to  convey  him  to  Calais. 
Boats  of  this  line  leave  Boston  for  St.  John  twice  a  week,  on 
Monday  and  Thursday,  at  8  o'clock,  a.m.,  until  July ;  after 
which  there  are  three  boats  a  week  until  October.  From 
Calais  there  is  a  two  hours'  ride  by  fail  to  Princeton,  be- 
fore mentioned,  where,  if  the  angler  be  accustomed  to  a 
birch  canoe,  he  should  secure  one  for  his  fishing-cruise. 
There  is  a  village  of  Passamaquoddy  Indians  at  Point 
Pleasant,  near  by,  where  he  can  make  his  selection  of 
guide  and  conveyance.  These  Indians  are  a  tan-colored 
satire  upon  the  aboriginal  red  man.  They  have  adopted 
enough  of  the  white  man's  habits  and  small  vices  to  readily 
pass  for  white  men.  They  are  much  addicted  to  the  use  of 
"fire  water,"  though  there  are  a  few  sober  ones  among  them. 


106  THE   SCHOODICS. 

Such  it  is  usually  necessary  to  determine  by  lot.  Their  time 
is  mainly  divided  between  loafing  and  doing  nothing,  and 
consequently  they  are  quite  harmless.  Some,  however,  have 
been  known  to  murder  the  Queen's  English  while  under  the 
influence  of  whiskey.  No  capital  penalty  attaches  to  this 
crime,  because  the  Government  desires  to  preserve  the  red 
man  from  total  extinction.  Of  those  most  temperate  and 
trustworthy,  Sabattis  is  chief.  Sabattis  is  a  good  Indian — 
"got  good  canoe — ^good  paddle — all  gopd.  Sabattis  not 
drink  whiskey — ^no — for  Injun  not  good — no  wMsTceyP 

If  we  can  engage  Sabattis,  we  are  all  right. 

But  stay.  Can  you  keep  yourself  in  a  birch  canoe  ?  It 
requires  some  tact  not  to  tumble  out ;  and  the  canoes  of  the 
Passamaquoddies  are  by  no  means  stijff,  like  those  of  many 
tribes.  The  equipoise  which  an  expert  maintains  uncon- 
sciously is  acquired  only  by  long  experience,  and  unless  the 
novice  is  confident  he  can  balance  himself  on  a  tight-rope 
the  first  time  trying,  he  had  better  go  in  the  steamboat. 
Never  a  white  man  learned  to  "  paddle  his  own  canoe"  who 
did  not  attain  the  acquisition  through  baptism  by  immer- 
sion. 

There  is  an  exhilaration  in  canoe-voyaging  which  pertains 
to  no  other  kind  of  locomotion  enjoyed  by  man.  In  the 
calm  of  a  summer's  day,  with  sky  and  clouds  reflected  in 
watery  vacuity,  whose  depth  seems  illimitable  as  the  sky 
itself,  one  floats  dreamily  in  space  on  bird-wings.  He  dwells 
among  enchanted  isles  of  air,  with  duplicated  and  inverted 
shores.  Trees  of  living  green  spring  up  from  nothing  below, 
and  grow  tops  downward.  Gorgeous  hues  of  summer  color- 
ing are  multiplied  and  intensified.  Everywhere  the  waves 
are  peopled  with  shadowy  things  that  wear  the  semblance  of 
reality.  You  can  strike  with  your  paddle  the  image  of  the 
crow  that  is  crossing  overhead,  and  shiver  it  into  countless 
fractions  of  crows.  A  clumsy  fly  drones  past  your  nose  and 
drops  heavily  on  the  water,  and  lo !  from  the  concussion  spring 
two  flies ;  and  as  one  gathers  up  his  wings  for  a  flight  and 


THE  SCHOODICS.  107 

sails  away,  his  counterpart  drops  into  distance  afar  down  out 
of  sight.  Anon  a  leaf  falls  on  the  surface  and  spins:  should 
an  inquisitive  perch  happen  to  come  up  from  the  bottom, 
face  towards  us,  to  look  at  it,  behold !  his  two  eyes  expand 
into  full  moons,  and  his  open  mouth  threatens  to  engulf 
canoe  and^all.  There  is  our  paddle-blade,  thirty  inches  long, 
regulation  length ;  thrust  it  into  the  water  point  down,  and 
directly  it  will  reach  out  to  the  shore  thirty  yards  away ! 
And  if  we  but  lopk  oyer  the  sides  of  the  canoe,  there  we 
shall  find  ourselves  instantly  reproduced ;  and  although  we 
know  that  no  other  human  beings  are  on  the  lake  or  in  the 
lake,  yet  here  are  creatures  like  ourselves,  bat  of  a  new  crea- 
tion— creatures  with  every  hneament  photographically  de- 
'fined,  which  the  slightest  zephyr  will  annihilate.  What  of 
a  breath  omnipotent  that  could  in  like  fashion  annihilate  a 
world  ? 

A  strange  new  life  is  this  we  Kve  in  our  birch  canoe,  float- 
ing gently,  drifting  hstlessly,  beguiled  by  pleasant  fancies — 
a  phantom  existence,  aimless  and  without  purpose !  Oh ! 
this  is  ecstacy  unalloyed !  care  broods  not  here. 

But  just  beyond  the  plane  of  this  calm  repose  is  a  tumult 
of  fierce  moods.  Here  is  a  field  for  action !  Bestir  yourself 
and.  feel  the  ecstasy  of  latent  nerve-power  roused.  Man  was 
made  for  noble  efforts  and  deeds  of  high  emprise.  Would 
he  experience  the  keenest  exhilaration  of  which  sense  is 
capable — ^would  he  enjoy  the  dangers  he  dares,  and  feel  the 
buoyancy  of  the  bark  on  which  he  floats — let  him  take  his 
place  in  the  canoe,  and  with  each  nerve  tautened  to  fullest 
tension  and  every  faculty  alert  and  active,  run  the  rapids 
that  form  the  outlet  of  the  lake !  Here  are  rocks  projecting, 
precipices  over-hanging,  fir-trees  clinging  to  perpendicular 
heights,  huge  boulders  piled  in  mid-stream,  walls  contracting 
into  gorges  and  ravines ;  and  through  its  tortuous  channel 
the  river  chafes  and  roars,  piling  its  crested  waves  in  a  tur- 
bulence of  foam,  leaping  cascades,  and  shivering  itself  in 
showers  of  spray.    Upon  the  tide  of  its  impetuous  career  a 


108  THE   SCHOODICS. 

frail  canoe  might  shoot  for  an  instant  like  a  meteor  in  its 
flight,  and  then  vanish  forever.  A  bubble  would  break  as 
easily.  But  with  sturdy  arms  to  guide,  and  eyes  keen  and 
true  to  foresee  danger,  the  peril  becomes  a  joy ;  and  the  httle 
craft  leaps  and  dances  over  the  feathery  waves,  until  at  last 
the  precipitous  banks  melt  into  grassy  strands,  and  the  dash- 
ing stream  spreads  into  broad  shallows  that  laugh  and  ripple 
over  pebbly. bottoms.  ■ 

This  is  the  famous  Grand  Lake  Stream,  among  whose  rocks 
and  eddies  the  land-locked  salmon  delight  to  dwell,  and 
whose  alternate  reaches  of  rapid  water  and  quiet  pools, 
wooded  banks  and  sandy  shores,  delight  the  angler.  It  is 
three  miles  long  and  connects  Grand  Lake  with  Big  Lake 
below.  Here,  at  the  height  of  the  fishing  season,  selected 
spots  are  occupied  by  dozens  of  cosy  tents  of  anglers  in  full- 
blown costumes  of  latest  cut  and  fabric — ^for  there  are  fash- 
ions among  sportsmen  as  well  as  beaux.  Here  are  bifurca- 
tions of  velveteen  and  corduroy  set  in  capacious  leather  boots 
and  thatched  above  with  hats  of  enormous  brims,  from 
whose  crowns  dangle  flies  of  every  hue  and  size.  There  are 
some  with  coats  slashed  with  multitudinous  pockets,  and 
others  with  plain  woolen  overshirts ;  some  with  veils  of  gauze 
protecting  face  and  shoulders,  and  others  with  blue  goggles 
gleaming,  like  saucers  beneath  their  shaggy  brows.  The 
shores  are  dotted  with  knots  of  fishermen  adjusting  tackle, 
and  the  stream  is  lively  with  boats  and  waders,  and  the  play 
of  assiduous  rods  and  whizzing  reels.  Here  are  parties  re- 
turning laden  with  trophies,  and  others  sauntering  off  to  re- 
sorts less  desirable  but  more  retired.  Far  up  the  chain  of 
lakes  occasional  boats  are  trolling  for  twelve-pound  toag,  and 
here  and  there  at  isolated  spots  on  Ox  Brook  or  Sisladobsis 
are  camps  of  old-fashioned  anglers  who  scorn  the  luxuries  of 
tent  life. 

As  has  been  stated,  this  chain  of  lakes  is  very  extensive. 
The  piscatory  tourist  can  pass  through  Grand  Lake  to  Com- 
pass Lake,  and  thence  to  Sisladobsis,  where  there  is  a  "carry" 


THE  SCHOODICS.  109 

to  Machias  Lake,  the  head-waters  of  the  Machias  Eiver. 
Or  he  may  cross  Compass  I^ake  to  Junior  Lake  and  thence  to 
Chain  Lake  ;  or  from  Junior  Lake  into  Scraggby  Lake  and 
on  through  Pleasant  Lake  to  Duck  Lake,  where  there  is  a 
settlement  from  which  land  conveyance  may  be  had  to  Ban- 
gor, a  journey  of  fifty  miles. 

The  eastern  chain  of  lakes,  though  less  frequented,  afford 
even  better  sport.  The  Grand  Lake  itself  is  twenty-five 
miles  long,  diversified  by  numerous  islands,  and  far-reaching 
points  of  land  abundantly  wooded.  The  shores  are  for  the 
most  part  bold,  though  there  are  beautiful  sandy  beaches  at 
intervals,  which  slope  gradually  to  deep  water  and  afford  lux- 
urious bathing  facilities.  The  stream  which  connects  this 
lake  with  Chepetnacook  below  is  similar  in  its  characteris- 
tics to  the  one  just  described.  It  was  long  a  favorite  resort 
of  Eev.  Dr.  Bethune.  Chepetnacook  is  thirty  miles  in 
length,  but  narrow,  resembling  a  deep,  massive  river.  A 
range  of  elevated  ridges,  thickly  wooded,  rises  abruptly  from 
its  western  shore,  "Spruce  Mountain"  the  highest  of  them 
all ;  and  when  the  sun  has  passed  the  zenith  it  casts  an  inky 
shadow  upon  the  lake  which  oppresses  with  its  impenetrable 
gloom,  and  makes  the  depth  seem  fathomless.  (It  is  said  to 
be  eight  hundred  feet.)  Once,  when  paddhng  my  canoe 
along  the  shore,  I  ventured  a  swim  in  this  Cimmerian  bath- 
tub !  I  suffered  such  a  depressing  effect  that  I  did  not  re- 
cover from  it  for  hours,  and  do  not  think  of  it  to-day  without 
a  shudder.  I  was  smothered  by  that  shadow ;  the  weight  of 
the  gloom  pressed  me  under,  and  a  hundred  clammy  tenta- 
cles seemed  reaching  up  from  below  to  drag  me  down.  Veiy 
pleasant  was  it  to  escape  into  the  sunlight  of  the  mid-stream 
— the  sun  never  shone  more  gorgeously  for  me.  How  I  plied 
my  paddle,  so  as  not  to  lose  sight  of  his  golden  face  again ! 
It  was  a  race  against  sunset.  Like  an  arrow,  and  as  noise- 
lessly, the  little  bark  skimmed  over  the  surface  in  the  direc- 
tion of  my  camp ;  the  only  sounds  that  broke  the  stillness 
were  the  gentle  dip  of  the  blade  and  the  ripple  that  chuckled 


110  THE  SCHOODICS. 

merrily  under  the  stem.  On  the  dead  top  of  a  tall  pine  that 
leaned  oyer  the'  eastern  shore,  a  great  eagle  sat  surveying 
himself  complacently  in  the  crimsoned  surface  below.  Anon 
a  couple  of  ducks  got  up  from  a  cove  and  flapped  out  toward 
the  middle,  leaving  parallel  wakes  as  they  flew.  A  king- 
fisher scolded  sharply  as  he  mounted  the  scraggy  limb  of  a 
hemlock,  and  the  hoarse  voice  of  a  crane  came  clear  and 
full  from  the  farthest  shore.  As  I  drove  my  prow  at  last 
into  the  alders  of  a  sloping  shore,  a  red  squirrel  ran  down  to 
the  end  of  a  limb,  and,  flirting  his  tail,  eyed  me  curiously 
with  unwinking  eyes.  Then  I  quietly  laid  the  paddles  under 
the  bars,  and,  hauling  the  tiny  craft  high  and  dry  out  of  the 
water,  bade  adieu  to  Chepetnacook  and  Grand  Lake  for  the 
time. 

But  I  have  been  there  since,  and  could  relate  some  pleas- 
ing tales  of  camp-life  on  their  pleasant  shores ;  but  this  is 
not  a  book  of  narratives — only  a  simple  guide  for  anglers. 

There  are  few  regions  more  attractive  to  the  general 
sportsman  than  the  two  chains  of  Schoodic  Lakes.  Salmon, 
speckled  trout,  toag,  or  great  lake-trout,  perch  and  pickerel^ 
abound  in  one  or  other  of  the  series,  and  the  angler  has  only 
to  secure  his  guide,  pay  his  money  and  take  his  choice. 


NOVA    SCOTIA 


^^..INCE  the  summer  of  1872  Nova  Scotia  has  been  con- 
nected with  New  York  by  rail ;  so  that  the  journey 
can  now  be  made  in  thirty^six  hours,  via  Bangor 
and  St.  John. 
From  St.  John  as  a  starting-point,  the  tourist  can 
make  a  round  trip  by  rail  and  steamboat  through  considera- 
ble portions  of  the  three  Provinces  of  New  Brunswick,  Nova 
Scotia,  and  Prince  Edward's  Island,  for  the  insignificant  sum 
of  $13.  As  this  is  the  main  thoroughfare  of  travel,  from 
which  lines  less  recent  and  less  expeditious  diverge  to  points 
which  I  shall  specify,  a  few  exphcit  directions  will  be  valua- 
ble to  strangers. 

The  round  trip,  as  usually  chosen,  is  by  steamboat  from 
St.  John  across  the  Bay  of  Fundy  to  Digby,  Nova  Scotia, 
thirty-five  miles,  thence  ten  miles  to  Annapolis,  a  point  of 
historical  interest,  and  thence  by  rail  to  Halifax  via  Wind- 
sor. A  route  more  desirable  for  sight-seekers  is  by  steamboat 
from  St.  John  up  the  entire  length  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy  to 
Windsor,  and  thence  to  Halifax — starting  upon  the  mighty 
wave  of  ai»  inflowing  tide,  which  rises  at  Windsor  to  the 
height  of  sixty  feet,  passing  the  beetling  promontories  of 
Capes  Sharp  and  Spht,  whose  bases  are  lashed  by  the  foam  of 
the  eddying  currents,  and  thence  through  the  beautiful  Basin 
of  Minas  into  the  Avon  Kiver  and  the  pastoral  country  of 


112  NOYA  SCOTIA. 

"  Evangeline."  Within  six  hours  after  their  arrival  at  Wind- 
sor the  vast  volume  of  water  will  have  rolled  back  to  the 
sea,  leaving  an  immense  hollow  basin  as  empty  as  the  crater 
of  a  volcano,  and  a  trickling  rivulet,  the  only  trace  of  its  ex- 
pended forces.  From  Halifax  there  is  communication  by 
railway  to  Truro  and  Pictou,  one  hundred  and  thirteen 
miles ;  from  Pictou  by  steamer  to  Charlottetown  and  Sum- 
merside,  Prince  Edward's  Island,  and  thence  by  same  con- 
veyance to  Shediac,  and  by  rail  one  hundred  and  eight  miles 
back  to  St.  John.  At  Truro,  delightfully  located  on  an  exten- 
sive plateau  of  meadow-land  encircled  by  an  amphitheatre 
of  hills,  can  be  traced  the  dykes  thrown  up  by  the  Acadians 
one  hundred  years  ago,  to  reclaim  the  fertile  bottoms  and 
keep  the  encroaching  tides  from  the  uplands.  There  are 
gigantic  willows,  planted  by  the  progenitors  of  Longfellow's 
heroine,  and  a  nearly  obliterated  burial-ground  in  which  the 
bones  of  many  of  them  rest.  Pictou  is  the  depot  of  the 
great  coal  region.  Charlottetown  is  the  capital  of  a  pastoral 
island  noted  for  its  fertihty  and  agricultural  products,  and  is 
surrounded  by  elegant  villas  arid  gardens  of  retired  English 
gentlemen,  with  every  hot-house  luxury  and  landscape  em- 
bellishment to  be  found  in  climes  considered  more  genial. 
Here  on  Saturdays  the  market-square  is  filled  with  a  hetero- 
geneous collection  of  queer  people,  antique  vehicles,  and 
scrubby  ponies,  from  the  neighboring  settlements ;  and  then 
there  is  a  jargon  of  Indian,  Scotch,  and  Acadian  dialects,  a 
commingling  of  quaint  costumes,  and  a  confusion  of  signs 
and  sounds,  that  would  dehght  a  factory  operative  accus- 
tomed to  the  whirr  and  buzz  of  a  mill.  Inordinate  quanti- 
ties of  garden-truck  are  sold  for  miscellaneous  coins  from 
mints  long  since  defunct,  and  of  no  current  value  whatever. 
Anything  that  looks  like  money  is  much  preferred  to  the 
best  of  paper  currency.  The  proverbial  button  would  pass, 
provided  it  had  no  eye.  There  are  no  better,  longer,  straight- 
er,  or  more  level  roads  anywhere  than  on  Prince  Edward's 
Island.      Summerside  is  a  thriving  town  that  has  grown 


NOYA  SCOTIA.  113 

great  within  a  period  incredibly  short  for*  Provincial  rates  of 
progress.  Shediac  is  noted  for  its  oysters,  and  is  a  calling- 
point  for  the  Gulf  Port  steamers  that  ply  between  Pictou 
and  Quebec.  The  most  desirable  hotels  at  these  several 
places  are  the  "Victoria"  at  St.  John,  the  "Clifton"  at 
Windsor,  the  "Halifax"  at  Halifax,  the  "Prince  of  Wales" 
at  Truro,  kept  by  a  hale  old  Scotchman  by  the  name  of 
McKenzie,  who  knows  all  the  fishing-grounds  in  that  region, 
"Eobson's"  at  Pictou,  "  Johnson's "  at  Charlottetown,  and 
the  "Weldon"  at  Shediac. 

Nova  Scotia  is  also  reached  by  weekly  ocean  steamer 
(Thursdays)  from  Boston  to  Halifax;  by  weekly  steamef 
from  Portland  to  Yarmouth,  on  Thursdays ;  and  by  the  "  In- 
ternational "  steamers  from  Boston  to  St.  John,  as  before 
mentioned. 

Twelve  or  thirteen  years  ago  the  author  of  "  Sparrowgrass 
Papers  "  wrote  an  entertaining  sketch  of  Halifax  and  a  part 
of  Nova  Scotia  as  it  then  was,  or  rather,  as  he  saw  it — as  fair 
and  truthful  a  sketch,  perhaps,  as  the  fog  and  the  limit  of  a 
month's  observation  permitted.  Nevertheless,  he  evidently 
closed  but  one  eye  upon  his  native  prejudices.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  divest  his  mind  entirely  of  the  popular  notion  that 
Halifax,  notwithstanding  its  fogs  and  dampness,  was  but  the 
correlative  term  for  a  place  unmentionable  and  infernally 
hot — a  "mouldy  old  town,"  with  dingy  gables,  predestined 
to  dilapidation.  And  the  country :  the  other  eye  failed  to 
discover  in  it  much  that  was  attractive,  civil,  or  indicative  of 
thrift  and  civihzatiori — very  little  inducement  for  a  progres- 
sive Yankee  to  immigrate.  Since  then,  we  of  the  United 
States  have  been  led  by  circumstances  to  look  more  kindly, 
not  to  say  covetously,  upon  this  "Bluenose"  capital  and 
realm.  The  possibility  that  this  wealthy  province  may  some 
day  constitute  a  valuable  slice  of  the  great  American*  domain, 
invests  it  with  vastly  increased  interest.  Besides,  time  and 
"  the  inexorable  logic  of  events  "  have  erased  many  of  the 
defects  of  Halifax,  and  multiplied  its  attractions.  Two  great 
8 


114  KOVA  SCOTIA. 

fires  swept  over  it  and  wiped  out  the  "  dingy  hoyels,"  its  old- 
fogyism,  and  its  apathy.  The  American  war  gave  it  a  sub- 
stantial lift.  Confederation  emptied  the  barracks  of  the 
garrison.  And  the  influx,  sagacious  investment,  and  judi- 
cious distribution  of  Yankee  and  Canadian  capital  have 
planted  thriving  settlements  and  enterprises  from  one  end 
of  the  Province  to  the  other. 

Herewith  I  enter  the  lists  as  the  champion  of  Nova 
Scotia.  Once  upon  a  time  I  resided  there  for  a  considerable 
period.  Within  tjie  past  thirteen  years  I  ha^^  traversed  it 
from  one  extremity  to  the  other ;  much  of  it  by  private  con- 
veyance. I  have  become  enamored  of  its  natural  beauties 
and  unusual  resources.  Were  I  to  give  a  first-class  certificate 
of  its  general  character,  I  would  affirm  that  it  yields  a  greater 
variety  of  products  for  export  than  any  territory  on  the  globe 
of  the  same  superficial  area.  This  i^  saying  a  great  deal. 
Let  us  see :  she  has  ice,  lumber,  ships,  salt  fish,  salmon  and 
lobsters,  coal,  iron,  gold,  antimony,  •  copper,  plaster,  slate, 
grindstones,  fat  cattle,  wool,  potatoes,  apples,  large  game,  and 
furs.  But,  as  this  volume  is  not  a  commercial  compendium, 
I  shall  regard  the  attractions  of  the  Province  from  a  sports- 
man's standpoint  only. 

As  a  game  country  it  is  unsurpassed.  Large  portions  are 
still  a  primitive  wilderness,  and  in  the  least  accessible  forests 
the  moose  and  cariboo  are  scarcely  molested  by  the  hunter. 
Nearly  every  stream  abounds  in  trout,  and  although  civiliza- 
tion, with  its  dams  and  its  mills,  had  nearly  exterminated 
the  salmon  at  one  time,  the  efforts  of  the  Canadian  Govern- 
ment since  1868  have  so  far  restored  the  streams  that  this 
royal  fish  may  also  be  taken  in  nearly  all  its  old  haunts. 
When  the  process  of  re-stocking  shall  have  been  fully  com- 
pleted, and  the  dams  all  opened  for  the  passage  of  the  salmon 
to  their  spawning  grounds,  these  rivers  will  be  leased  to  anglers. 
At  present  they  are  the  only  ones  in  the  New  Dominion  not 
so  leased.  Such  as  they  are,  they  are  free  to  all  comers.  In 
some  respects  they  offer  inducements  not  to  be  found  in  other 


KOYA  SCOTIA.  115 

salmon  districts.  Most  of  them  are  short,  running  in  paral- 
lel lines  to  the  sea,  only  a  few  miles  apart.  The  fishing- 
ground  seldom  extends  more  than  ten  miles  from  their 
mouths,  and  they  are  so  accessible  to  settlements,  that  the 
angler  can  surfeit  himself  with  sport  by  day,  and  sleep  in  a 
comfortable  inn  or  farm-house  at  night— a  juxtaposition  of 
advantages  seldom  to  be  found  in  America.  There  is  no_ 
necessity  for  camping  out. 

The  time  for  salmon  fishing  in  Nova  Scotia  begins  much 
earher  than  in  the  other  provinces.  In  the  Shelburne  dis- 
trict, at  the  western  end,  the  run  commences  in  February 
and  ends  by  the  1st  of  July,  and  the  season  is  progressively 
later  as  you  follow  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  eastward.  In 
the  Cobequid  district,  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy  side,  it  begins 
in  early  June,  and  continues  until  September.  The  average 
weight  of  the  fish  is  about  twelve  pounds,  though  a  few  are 
taken  larger. 

Sea-trout  or  tide- trout  commence  to  run  up  the  rivers  at 
the  end  of  June,  and  the  sport  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  estuaries 
at  that  season  is  of  the  most  exciting  character.  The  fish 
average  about  three  pounds  in  weight,  and  when  well  hooked, 
will  test  the  dexterity  of  the  angler  and  the  strength  of  his 
tackle  to  the  utmost.  They  are  the  most  shapely  and 
beautiful  of  the  Salmo  family,  and  equal  to  any  of  his  con- 
geners for  delicacy  of  flavor.  By  the  middle  of  August  the 
run  is  over,  and  if  caught  at  all  after  that  time,  they  are  far 
up  stream.  "While  some  anglers  insist  that  the  sea-trout 
and  brook-trout  (Sahno  fontinalis)  are  identical,  others 
declare  that  the  sea-trout  never  leaves  salt  water.  I  have 
frequently  taken  them  in  Gold  Eiver,  Nova  Scotia,  as  far 
up  the  stream  as  Beech  Hill,  which  is  several  miles  above 
its  mouth,  with  two  series  of  considerable  falls  intervening. 
In  the  same  river  I  have  taken  on  the  same  day,  the  1st  of 
July,  a  salmon,  a  grilse,  a  eea-trout,  and  a  speckled  or  brook- 
trout,  tvithout  changing  my  casting  stand.  Lay  them  side 
by  side,  and  there  is  no  difiStculty  in  establishing  the  identity 


116  KOVA  SCOTIA. 

of  each.  I  stood  just  above  the  second  falls,  where  the  riyer 
expands  into  a  large  lake  with  flat  shores  of  meadow.  A 
little  cold  brook  flows  in  just  there,  and  you  can  wade  out 
knee-deep  two  rods  from  shore,  and  cast  over  a  sunken  ledge 
which  descends  abruptly  and  perpendicularly  to  a  depth  of 
twenty  feet.  The  river  channel  flows  under  your  feet,  and 
.a  single  step  will  drop  you  from  shoal  water  into  a  gulf.  It 
is  a  marvelous  casting  stand. 

Although  trout  can  be  caught  in  all  parts  of  Nova  Scotia, 
as  before  stated,  there  are  three  grand  angling  centres  or 
divisions  of  superior  excellence ;  and  these  I  designate,  for 
convenience,  as  follows : 

First,  the  Parrsboro  or  Oobequid  district,  which  includes 
the  counties  of  Cumberland  and  Colchester.  The  rivers  of 
this  district  head  in  the  Oobequid  Mountains,  and  flow  north 
and  east  into  the  Northumberland  Strait  of  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence,  and  south  and  west  into  the  Basin  of  Minas,  which 
is  an  arm  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  They  are  extremely  clear 
and  cold,  and  generally  find  their  sources  in  lakes  into  which 
the  salmon  go  to  spawn..  On  the  Bay  side  they  include  the 
Macan,  Herbert,  Apple,  Stewiacke,  Great  Bass,  Portapique, 
and  Folly  Eivers.  Apple  Kiver  and  the  Portapique  are  the 
best  of  the  number,  but  the  former  runs  through  a  dense 
wilderness  its  whole  length,  and  is  accessible  only  from  the 
sea.  Most  of  the  others  can  be  reached  from  Truro  or 
Parrsboro  by  a  wagon  road,  which  follows  the  shore  of  Minas 
Basin.  The  St.  John  steamer  touches  at  Parrsboro,  en  route 
to  AVindsor.  By  this  route  several  streams  can  be  fished 
successively,  and  lodgings  can  be  obtained  at  intervals  at 
farm-houses  along  the  road.  The  true  way,  however,  of  en- 
joying a  visit  to  this  section  is  to  hire  a  boat  at  Truro,  or 
Amherst,  and  go  around  the  peninsula — the  voyage  occupy- 
ing some  four  or  five  weeks.  On  the  Gulf  side  the  two  best 
streams  are  the  Wallace  River  and  the  River  Phillip.  The 
latter  is  a  noble  stream,  and  has  been  well  protected  front 
illegal  fishing  for  a  number  of  years,  and  provided  with  passes 


i^OVA   SCOTIA.  117 

over  the  dams. .  Its  trout  have  always  been  noted  for  their 
large  size.  It  is  most  easily  reached  by  the  Intercolonial 
Kailway  from  Truro  to  Amherst.  Most  excellent  accommo- 
dations for  anglers  can  be  secured  at  Purdy's  hotel,  on  the 
old  stage  road.  It  will  probably  be  the  first  river  offered  for 
lease  in  this  part  of  the  Province.  By  the  same  route,  and 
stopping  at  the  same  hotel,  the  angler  can  visit  the  famous 
Westchester  Lakes,  where  he  can  catch  trout  by  the  bushel, 
often  of  large  size,  though  the  average  weight  is  not  perhaps 
half  a  pound.  There  is  a  farm-house,  and  only  one,  near  by, 
where  lodgings  can  be  obtained.  Vividly  do  I  recall  a 
brief  visit  passed  with  this  hospitable  family — a  God-serving 
family  who  never  omitted  morning  and  evening  devotions. 
By  the  farmer  and  his  wife  I  was  kindly  enough  received 
when  I  tumbled  my  luggage  at  a  venture  from  the  coach, 
and  solicited  entertainment  for  a  few  days.  But  there  was  a 
paternal  ancestor  hving  there  and  then,  though  now  gathered 
to  his  defunct  fathers,  a  patriarch  of  eighty  years,  to  whose 
venerable  hairs  I  doffed  my  hat  in  reverence,  as  became  my 
youth  and  early  education.  Ah !  it  were  better  had  J  saved 
the  obeisance  for  an  occasion  more  auspicious — for  a  person 
more  appreciative.  Said  he,  v/itli  whelming  brows,  and 
tremulous  voice,  and  hand  repellent : 

"  Young  man,  it  is  forbidden !  Never  dare  to  lift  your  hat 
to  me." 

Astounded,  I  drew  back  and  queried.  In  withering  tones 
he  answered : 

"  Is  it  not  written, '  Thou  shall  not  bow  down  to  the  UJce- 
ness  of  anything  9 ' " 

In  consternation,  I  confessed '  my  crime,  and  promised 
never  to  transgress  again.  In  vain,  I  made  no  friend  of  him. 
He  refused  all  compromise,  but  solemnly  enjoined  upon  my 
attention  the  threat  that  came  from  Sinai,  with  its  cumula- 
tive penalty  to  be  visited  "  upon  the  children  of  the  third 
and  fourth  generation."  I  was  so  taken  aback,  as  sailors  say, 
with  the  enormity  of  the  offence  and  the  prospective  punish- 


118  KOYA  SCOTIA. 

ment,  that  I  caught  no  fish  that  day.  Trout  wouldn't  bite 
in  such  an  east  wind  as  that !  It  was  only  when  I  learned 
from  the  family  at  bed-time  that  the  old  man  was  a  religious 
monomaniac,  who  had  long  since  gone  crazy  on  that  partic- 
ular point,  and  all  others  in  general,  that  I  could  conscien- 
tiously compose  my  thoughts,  and  turn  my  attention  to 
sublunary  things.  I  turned  inverted  commas  over  the  in- 
cident, and  herewith  mark  it  original. 

A  more-  satisfactory  mode  of  fishing  Westchester  Lakes 
would  be  to  put  up  at  Purdy's,  and  drive  down  from  there  in 
a  wagon.  Purdy's  is  on  the  summit  of  the  Cobequid  Moun- 
tains. From  near  his  house  a  marvelous  view  can  be  had  of 
trackless  forests  dotted  with  lakes,  and  traversed  by  silvery 
streams  that  meander  to  the  waters  of  the  Bay  and  Gulf  in 
the  distance,  which  are  spread  out  in  cerulean  expanse,  and 
flecked  by  white  sails  of  vessels  that  gleam  in  the  noonday  sun. 
Fountain  Lake,  six  miles  from  the  hotel,  is  a  crystal  sheet  of 
water  filled  with  trout.  There  is  scarcely  a  locality  in  the 
Province  that  I  could  so  earnestly  recommend  to  a  stranger. 
It  is  wild  as  nature  itself,  without  being  barbarous;  beau- 
tiful, without  being  difficult  of  access;  and  it  combines 
salmon  and  trout  fishing  with  all  the  creature  comforts. 
Captivating  elysium ! 

The  whole  of  Cumberland  county  comprises  one  of  the 
finest  moose-hunting  grounds  in  the  world.  The  sportsman 
should  take  steamer  to  Parrsboro,  where  he  can  secure 
guides  and  whatever  additional  outfit  his  circumstances 
may  require. 

Pleasant  Parrsboro!  with  its  green  hills,  neat  cottages, 
and  sloping  shores  laved  by  the  sea  when  the  tide  is  full, 
but  wearing  quite  a  different  aspect  when  the  tide  goes  out ; 
for  then  it  is  left  perched  thirty  feet  high  upon  a  red  clay 
bluff,  and  the  fishing-boats  which  were  afloat  before  are 
careened  on  their  beam  ends,  high  and  dry  out  of  water. 
The  long  massive  pier  at  which  the  steamboat  lately  landed, 
lifts  up  its  naked  bulk  of  tree-nailed  logs,  reeking  with  green 


NOVA  SCOTIA.  119 

ooze  and  seaweed ;  and  a  high  conical  island  which  consti- 
tutes the  chief  feature  of  the  landscape  is  transformed  into  a 
bold  promontory,  connected  with  the  mainland  by  a  huge 
ridge  of  brick-red  clay.  These  are  peculiarities  of  the  Bay 
of  Fundy  throughout  its  length.  Its  coast-dwellers  assuredly 
cannot  complain  of  monotony,  when  the  landscape  is  so  com- 
pletely metamorphosed  twice  in  every  twenty-four  hours. 

The  second  district  to  which  the  angler's  attention  is  in- 
vited, I  designate  as  the  Middle  district,  for  lack  of  a  better 
term.  It  includes  nearly  all.  of  Halifax  county,  and  parts  of 
the  counties  of  Guysboro  and  Pictou.  Too  much  cannot  be 
said  in  praise  of  this  entire  district.  Its  general  features  are 
mountainous,  and  similar  to  those  of  the  other  two  districts 
specially  spoken  of.  There  are  innumerable  streams,  into 
which  salmon  have  been  running  the  past  two  years,  over 
unobstructed  passes  and  artificial  fish- ways,  in  number  that 
cause  both  rod  and  net  fishermen  to  leap  for  joy.  So  many 
have  not  been  seen  for  decades;  and  the'  quantity  netted 
in  the  estuaries  demonstrates  that  the  system  of  protecting 
fish  on  their  breeding-beds  is  telling  in  favor  of  the  coast- 
fishing.  John,  Middle,  and  East  Eivers  in  Pictou  county, 
are  accessible  from  Pictou,  the  railway  terminus ;  the  east 
and  west  branches  of  St.  Mary's  Eiver,  as  well  as  the  main 
stream,  running  through  Guysboro  into  Pictou,  afford  fine 
salmon-fishing ;  and  the  North,  Middle,  and  Tangier  Eivers 
in  Halifax  county,  are  also  good,  though  hitherto  interfered 
with  by  lumbering  operations.  These  are  aU  reached  by 
vessel  or  stage-road  from  Halifax,  at  distances  ranging  from 
forty  to  sixty  miles  from  the  city.  They  are  not  much 
visited  by  anglers.  Indeed,  I  might  say  the  same  of  nearly 
all  the  rivers  of  Nova  Scotia,  with  the  exception  of  those  in 
the  vicinity  of  Halifax.  I  have  never  yet  met  an  angler 
from  the  United  States  on  any  Nova  Scotia  stream,  and  I 
never  yet  counted  a  dozen  rods,  all  qualities  and  degrees  in- 
cluded (ofiicers,  ordinary  white  folks,  and  Indians),  on  any 
given  stream  in  any  one  season.    If  the  cause  be  ignorance 


120  I^OVA  SCOTIA. 

of  localities  and  means  of  access,  the  excuse  need  not  be 
plead  in  future. 

I  make  little  mention  of  trout  because  they  abound  every- 
where, not  only  in  the  tributaries  of  rivers  named,  but  in 
other  rivers  where  there  are  no  salmon,  though  the  Musquo- 
doboit  and  Shubenacadie  are  much  fished. 

Within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles  around  Halifax,  trout  and 
salmon  fishing  can  be  enjoyed  in  every  phase  which  the  gen- 
tle art  is  capable  of  assuming.  Some  of  the  conditions  are 
so  incongruous  as  to  be  startling  in  their  effect.  For  in- 
stance, who  ever  thought  of  putting  salmon  and  negroes  in 
juxtaposition?  One  would  as  soon  think  of  associating 
sugar-cane  and  Esquimaux.  Yet  if  the  angler  will  make 
up  his  little  party  of  Haligonian  friends,  stow  his  tackle 
and  hampers  in  the  tail  of  a  dog-cart,  and  drive  out  twenty 
miles  to  Pockwock  Lake,  he  will  not  only  be  rewarded  with  a 
full  basket  of  trout,  but  he  will  pass,  for  fully  one-half  the 
distance,  through  a  settlement  of  negroes  as  decidedly  Afri- 
can as  the  West  Indian  ancestors  from  whom  they  are  de- 
scended. This  settlement  is  called  Hammond  Plains,  and 
there  are  two  others  like  unto  it  in  Nova  Scotia ;  for  be  it 
known  that  this  Province  has  its  colonies  of  negroes  as  well 
as  of  English,  French,  Germans,  Scotch,  Irish,  and  Indians, 
each  of  which  preserves  its  characteristic  identity  in  a  re- 
markable degree.  Each  is  clannish,  keeping  aloof  from  the 
others,  except  as  the  intercourse  of  trade  compels,  and  re- 
taining some  national  and  distinctive  peculiarities  of  dress, 
customs,  and  manner  of  living.  On. market-days  in  Hahfax, 
representatives  of  each  can  be  seen  mingling  together,  offering 
for  sale  their  representative  wares,  but  still  gathered  in  iso- 
lated groups  of  their  own  kith  and  kind.  At  the  Pockwock 
Lake  negro  boatmen  are  at  hand  to  render  their  services, 
and  when  the  day's  sport  is  over,  the  angler  can  bestow  him- 
self in  comfortable  lodgings  especially  provided  for  members 
of  the  craft. 

At  the  Dartmouth  Lakes,  six  miles  from  Halifax,  are  trout, 


NOVA  SCOTIA.  121 

and  Indian  villages  of  primitive  bark ;  and  there  are  numer- 
ous other  lakes  and  streams  in  the  vicinity  of  various  de- 
grees of  excellence  as  fishing-grounds.  The  angler  can  go 
forth  arrayed  in  the  full  panoply  of  the  aristocratic  sports- 
man's livery,  and  cast  his  line  in  pleasant  places,  where  he 
can  have  the  most  assiduous  attention  of  well-instructed 
servants  at  table  and  in  the  field,  with  mine  host  to  titillate 
his  fastidious  palate  with  all  the  tidbits  of  the  season ;  or  he 
can  attire  himself  in  ordinary  service  suits  and  take  civilized 
pot-luck  at  wayside  farm  houses ;  or  he  can  eschew  all  comforts 
and  rough  it  in  the  bush,  regaling  himself  on  hard  tack, 
fish,  and  frizzled  pork.  Army  officers  especially  have  a  pen- 
chant for  *^  a  day's  fishing.'^  Some  of  them  are  no  common- 
place manipulators  of  fine  tackle ;  and  when  they  can  se- 
cure a  short  furlough  from  the  commanding  officer  of  the 
garrison,  they  summon  their  retinue  of  servants,  and  with  a 
wagon-load  of  tents,  tackle,  relishes,  and  fine  wines,  sally 
forth  to  favorite  haunts  on  Indian  Eiver  and  other  neigh- 
boring salmon-streams  that  empty  into  Margaret's  Bay,  some 
twenty  miles  from  Halifax.  Here  are  famous  sporting- 
houses — ^the  "Alma,"  the  "Inkerman,"  and  "Mason's," 
where,  if  report  be  true,  there  is  more  flirting  done  than 
fishing.  For  mine  hosts  have  pretty  daughters,  whom  a 
proximity  to  town  has  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
toilet  and  the  heart — more  attractive  to  Her  Majesty's  sus- 
ceptible defenders  than  all  the  allurements  of  leafy  woods 
and  sylvan  streams.  Nevertheless,  there  are  a  few  devotees  to 
rod  and  reel  who  heed  not  the  wooings  of  the  sirens,  but  ex- 
tend their  journey  to  that  other  region  of  superior  sport,  the 
third,  which  now  remains  to  be  noticed. 

This  district,  which  I  shall  call  the  Shelburne  district,  em- 
braces nearly  the  whole  of  Shelburne,  Queens,  and  Lunen- 
burg counties,  the  same  being  the  southern  half  of  a  wilder- 
ness tract  some  sixty  miles  by  ninety  in  extent.  It  is  em- 
phatically the  lake  region  of  Nova  Scotia.  All  that  it  lacks 
is  the  gi'and  old  mountains  to  make  it  physically  as  attractive 


122  NOVA  SCOTIA. 

as  the  Adirondacks,  while  as  for  game  and  fish  it  is  in  every 
way  infinitely  superior.  Its  rivers  are  short,  but  they  flow 
with  full  volume  to  the  sea,  and  yield  abundantly  of  salmon, 
trout  and  sea-trout.  Its  lakes  swarm  with  trout,  and  into 
many  of  them  the  salmon  ascend  to  spawn,  and  are  dipped 
and  speared  by  the  Indians  in  large  numbers.  As  for  the 
forest  country  that  lies  to  the  north,  and  extends  from  Yar- 
mouth, through  Digby  and  Annapolis,  into  Kings,  you  can 
travel  a  hundred  miles  in  a  north-easterly  course  and  cross 
but  three  roads.  There  is  little  angling  in  this  tract,  but 
moose  roam  unmolested  through  it,  unless  perchance  some 
hardy  hunter  goes  in  winter  on  snow-shoes  and  kills  them  in 
their  "  yards "  by  the  score  for  the  paltry  price  their  hides 
will  bring. 

Civilization  and  settlements,  following  the  coast-line  and 
geographical  boundaries,  have  completely  encircled  this  wil- 
derness. It  is  easy  to  reach  the  salmon  rivers  of  the  south  side 
by  the  Portland  steamer  to  Yarmouth,  and  thence  by  a 
little  steamboat  that  runs  at  intervals  to  Hafifax,  touching 
at  the  intermediate  seaports.  Or  the  journey  may  be  made 
from  Annapolis  by  railroad  through  the  Annapolis  valley  one 
hundred  and  twenty-nine  miles  to  Halifax,  and  thence  by 
daily  stage  along  the  coast  for  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
miles  or  more  to  the  Jordan,  Koseway  and  Clyde  Eivers,  the 
latter  being  the  uttermost  of  the  series  and  of  httle  account 
as  a  salmon  stream.  The  Jordan  is  highly  spoken  of,  though 
I  cannot  recommend  it  from  personal  trial. 

Once  upon  a  time,  say  three  years  ago,  intent  upon  adven- 
ture, I  determined  to  take  a  short  cut  from  Annapolis  across 
the  forest,  the  distance  from  coast  to  coast  being  about  seventy- 
six  miles.  Obtaining  a  stout  wagon,  into  which  I  tossed  my 
valise,  I  started  off  upon  the  only  highway  that  traverses  this 
dreary  wilderness.  It  was  nearly  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, and  though  the  days  were  the  longest  of  summer,  I 
could  not  hope  to  reach  a  resting-place  till  -after  dark,  and 
did  not  until  a  twinkle  in  a  hospitable  window  welcomed  me 


KOVA  SCOTIA.  123 

at  nine.  After  the  first  two  miles  of  the  journey  were  passed 
we  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  South  Mountain,  and  from 
tkat  time  passed  but  one  solitary  house  in  mid-wilderness. 

The  woods  were  drear  and  sombre,  vast  masses  of  spruce 
and  hemlock,  whose  monotony  was  varied  only  by  an  occa- 
sional lake  around  which  fires  had  run,  and  from  whose 
swampy  bottoms  burnt  trunks  of  trees  projected  stark  and 
stiff.  The  road  was  filled  with  rocks  that  threatened  to  dis- 
locate the  wagon  and  leave  us  afoot  among  the  bears,  which 
the  driver  said  were  "  thick  "  thereabouts.  But  "  nary  "  bear 
was  seen,  or  other  evidence  of  game-life.  Only  when  the 
shades  of  evening  fell,  an  owl  which  had  been  drowsing  all 
day  long,  shook  out  his  plumage  and  hooted.  Not  to  be 
made  game  of  in  this  fashion,  I  roused  the  echoes  with  my 
pistol,  and  the  imp  of  darkness  flapped  away  from  a  tree  near 
by,  and  presently  settled  down  again  on  another,  further  off. 
Then  the  dark  grew  denser  and  we  jogged.  It  was  down- 
hill now.  We  were  over  the  mountain,  and  the  road  im- 
proved. At  Maitland  (two  houses),  where  the  hght  shone, 
the  candle  had  been  snuffed  for  the  last  time,  but  we  got 
supper  nevertheless — strawberries  and  cream,  bread  and 
butter,  and  sweet  cakes — and  the  horse  got  hay. 

We  were  up  at  four  o'clock,  took  breakfast  at  Caledonia  at 
eight — ^forty  miles  made  since  starting — and  at  noon  reached 
a  fork,  of  which  one  branch  turned  toward  Greenfield,  on  the 
Port  Med  way  River,  and  the  other  to  Ponhook  Lake,  the 
heaclquarters  of  the  Micmacs  and  of  all  the  salmon  of  Liver- 
pool River.  This  lake  is  the  southernmost  of  a  magnificent 
chain  of  lakes,  of  which  Lake  Rosignol  is  the  largest,  the 
latter  being  twelve  miles  long  by  eight  wide,  and  studded 
with  innumerable  islands.  If  the  sportsman  who  has  been 
contented  with  Adirondack  or  White  Mountain  experience, 
would  enjoy  a  summer  vacation  which  shall  eclipse  all  others 
in  its  novelty,  variety,  and  pleasure,  let  him  employ  two 
Indians  and  a  canoe  at  Ponhook  and  begin  his  voyage.  He 
can  pass  without  portages  into  a  dozen  lakes  and  ponds  by 


124  NOVA  SCOTIA. 

their  connecting  streams,  and  when  his  last  camp  is  made 
among  the  dehghtful  islands  of  "  Fairy  Lakes,"  he  can  paddle 
his  canoe  up  stream  to  Maitland,  pay  off  his  men  and  send 
them  back,  and  mount  his  wagon  for  other  parts.  He  will 
always  remember  his  trip  as  one  of  the  rainbow-tinted  ex- 
periences of  his  life. 

Having  surfeited  myself  with  fishing  at  Ponhook,  and 
mentally  anathematized  the  Indians  for  dipping  such  quan- 
tities of  this  valued  fish,  I  returned  to  the  forks,  where,  by 
the  way,  is  a  very  neat  and  comfortable  house  for  wayfarers. 
I  then  drove  off  to  Greenfield,  a  little  mill  town  on  the  Port 
Medway,  where  a  canoe  was  to  meet  me,  so  that  I  could  fish 
down  stream. 

Did  you  never  hear  of  Saul  the  Indian  ?  He  is  the  king 
of  fly-fishermen  in  this  region,  as  well  as  the  chief  of  his 
tribe.  He  can  tie  a  fly  as  neatly  as  our  friend  Michael  at 
Andrew  Gierke's;  and  as  for  the  number  of  salmon  he  has 
in  a  single  season  killed,  on  a  beautiful  rod  of  his  own  man- 
ufacture, I  dare  not  trust  my  memory  to  tell.  How  many 
miles  we  have  tramped  together!  how  often  have  we  been 
wet  to  the  skin !  We  used  to  start  from  Mill  Village,  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Port  Medway  Eiver,  walk  our  six  miles  to  the 
third  falls,  fish  all  day,  and  tramp  back  with  the  weight  of  two 
salmon  over  our  shoulders.  If  we  caught  more  than  we  could 
carry,  we  sent  a  wagon  for  them.  But  now,  with  our  canoe, 
it  was  all  luxurious  ease.  A  noble  stream  is  the  Port  Med- 
way, where  we  launched  our  bark  below  the  dam  at  Green- 
field, seventeen  miles  above  salt  water.  Rapidly  and  wi^h 
somewhat  turbulent  current  it  tumbles  on  its  winding  course 
for  a  few  miles,  sometimes  under  water- willows  that  overarch, 
and  anon  under  the  glare  of  the  full  sunlight ;  and  when  no 
drive  of  logs  is  running,  the  angler  can  pick  out  a  salmon 
here  and  there  from  occasional  pools.  But  the  best  fishing 
is  below,  where  the  river  flows  for  the  most  part  with  a  deep, 
still  volume  one  hundred  yards  wide,  and  at  intervals  is 
broken  by  the  most  glorious  falls  that  salmon  ever  leaped. 


NOVA  SCOTIA.  125 

At  the  second  falls  there  is  a  large  island,  which  the  river 
has  cut  off  from  the  shore  by  a  shallow  stream ;  and  here  is 
the  place  to  catch  big  trout.  With  a  canoe  the  angler  can 
"  do  "  the  Port  Medway  in  a  day,  and  take  stage  for  Bridge- 
water  on  the  Lahave,  a  dismal  journey  of  twenty-eight  miles 
through  the^  woods,  relieved  only  by  a  glass  of  poor  gin  sold 
on  the  sly  at  a  shanty — for  they  have  the  Maine  liquor  law 
in  the  two  counties  of  Lunenburg  and  Queens.  Bibulous 
individuals  must  go  thirsty  till  they  reach  Halifax  county, 
unless  specially  provided  for,  or  compassionated  by  wayside 
taverners. 

The  Lahave  Eiver  and  the  Petite  Eivi^re,  a  few  miles  fur- 
ther east,  had  been  almost  ruined  for  fishing  by  dams  and 
drives  of  logs,  but  have  been  replenished  within  two  years 
by  the  efforts  of  the  fishery  ofi&cers.  From  Lahave  to  Indian 
River  the  stage  route  passes  along  the  coast  through  a  dis- 
trict of  the  most  picturesque  description,  and  full  of  novelty 
to  the  tourist.  Civilization  now  begins,  and  the  road  is 
excellent.  Rattling  out  of  the  active  little  town  of  Bridge- 
water,  over  the  bridge  that  spans  the  river  and  along  the 
river's  bank  for  two  or  three  miles,  we  pass  huge  saw-mills, 
with  great  lumber-ships  alongside  receiving  cargo,  and  coast- 
ing-vessels beating  up  stream ;  then  cross  a  stretch  of  farm- 
ing country  and  arrive  at  Lunenburg  town,  a  place  of  con- 
siderable wealth  and  industry.  Thence  skirting  the  shore 
of  Mahone  Bay,  we  pass  a  succession  of  hamlets  and  fishing- 
stations.  From  land  far  out  to  sea  the  bay  is  filled  with 
islands,  some  clad  with  gi-eenest  verdure,  others  merely  huge 
white  cliffs  of  rocks  that  gleam  like  beacons  in  the  sun. 
Brooks  cross  the  road  and  tumble  into  the  brine.  Inshore 
are  lakes  and  ponds,  into  some  of  which  the  ocean  dashes  its 
spray  when  storms  excite  it.  Frequently  Ihe  stage-road 
crosses  a  natural  causeway  so  narrow  that  an  angler  might 
cast  his  line,  first  into  the  fresh  water  on  the  left  and  then 
into  the  salt  upon  the  right.  Here  is  the  Mushamush  River, 
another  salmon  stream,  from  which  the  fish,  until  lately,  had 


126  NOVA  SCOTIA. 

been  long  excluded  by  artificial  obstacles.  Here  is  Martin's 
Cove,  where  a  storm  drove  in  two  years  ago,  and  played 
havoc  with  the  fishing  houses  and  smacks,  shivering  them  to 
atoms  and  sweeping  them  out  to  sea.  When  the  day  is  fine 
the  scenery  along  this  route  is  most  enchanting ;  but  not 
unfrequently  fogs  roU  in  and  beset  the  travieler,  shutting  out 
the  view  for  hours.  Then  as  suddenly  they  roll  away,  and 
the  landscape  gleams  forth  again,  transplendent  with  tenfold 
beauty  in  the  welcome  sunlight.  And  now  we  come  to  Ches- 
ter Basin,  island-gemmed  and  indented  with  many  a  little 
cove ;  and  far  out  to  sea,  looming  up  in  solitary  grandeur,  is 
Aspotogon,  a  mountain  headland  said  to  be  the  highest  land 
in  Nova  Scotia.  The  road  follows  the  shore  for  many  a  mile, 
and  then  turns  abruptly  up  the  beautiful  valley  of  Gold 
Eiver,  the  finest  of  all  the  salmon  streams  of  this  grand 
locality.  In  it  there  are  eleven  glorious  pools,  all  within  two 
miles  of  each  other,  and  others  for  several  miles  above  at 
longer  intervals.  Above  the  first  series  a  canoe  should  be 
used.  The  lower  stream  affords  a  succession  of  unobstructed 
casts  such  as  I  have  never  seen  for  elbow-room  and  sweep  of 
line  on  any  other  stream.  We  halt  for  a  moment  where  the 
stage-road  crosses  the  bridge,  and  lo6k  wistfully  into  the  vista 
above,  where  the  black  waters  come  whirling  down,  cool  and 
delicious,  flecked  with  foam.  Just  below  us  there  is  a  splen- 
did pool,  and  we  can  see  Indian  John  and  his  boys  beside  a 
boulder  at  the  tail  of  it,  dipping.  Upon  the  grassy  bank  be- 
hind are  four  dilapidated  wigwams  of  hemlock  bark,  with 
quilts  suspended  across  the  entrances,  serving  for  doors.  It  is 
evident  the  salmon  are  running  lively,  or  the  Indians  would 
not  be  here.  Fain  would  we  tarry ;  but  we  must  wait  for  the 
morrow,  and  dream  of  its  joys  to-night  in  Chester.  So,  leav- 
ing word  for  Johnny  and  Joe  to  expect  us  in  the  morning, 
we  drive  to  Charley  Lovett's  hospitable  inn,  six  miles  farther. 
There  we  shall  enjoy  the  full  fruition  of  the  angler's  hopes, 
without  one  drawback  or  vexation  to  mar  its  ripe  perfection. 
"There'U  be  no  sorrow  there."    Private  parlor  and  bedroom 


NOYA  SCOTIA.  127 

with  gossamer  curtains ;  sheets  snowy  white ;  bouquets  of 
wild  flowers,  renewed  every  day ;  boots  blacked  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  a  rising  bell,  or  a  little  maid's  tap  at  the  door ;  break- 
fast under  hot  covers — broiled  salmon,  baked  trout  with 
cream,  omelettes,  toast,  Iroiled  beefsteak,  (everybody  else  fries 
it  down  there,)  coffee,  eggs,  milk,  wild  honey,  and  "  all  that 
sort  of  thing  ad  lihitum^  ad  infinitum^  At  seven  o'clock, 
sharp,  every  morning,  the  wagon  is  brought  to  the  door  and 
loaded.  In  the  hinder  part  we  stow  a  hamper  of  biscuit  and 
cheese,  sandwiches,  cold  ham,  sardines,  sometimes  a  boiled 
lobster  (they  catch  them  here  by  the  thousand  and  can  them 
for  market),  hard-boiled  eggs,  bottles  of  claret  and  Bass's  beer, 
a  big  chunk  of  ice,  a  couple  of  lemons,  salt,  pepper,  and 
sugar,  with  all  table  utensils  necessary ;  also  pickles.  This 
is  for  luncheon.  We  never  carry  pie  ;  it  squashes.  Under 
the  seats  we  place  our  waterproofs,  wading  trousers,  and  extra 
boots  and  socks ;  then  we  light  pipes  or  cigars  and  mount 
to  our  seats ;  Charley  hands  us  our  rods,  which  we  nurse 
tenderly,  and  gi\dng  the  word  "go,"  we  rattle  off  under  the 
respectful  but  admiring  gaze  of  a  dozen  lobster-crackers 
going  to  work  in  the  factory,  and  of  all  the  early  risers  in 
the  village.  For,  be  it  known,  this  diurnal  departure  and  the 
arrival  of  the  stage  at  noon,  are  the  great  events  of  the  pass- 
ing days. 

At  sundown  the  wagon  will  be  sent*  to  the  river  to  bring 
us  back  with  our  trophies.  It  is  a  great  satisfaction  to  be 
able  to  exhibit  the  trophies  of  one's  skill  or  endeavor.  The 
two  greatest  rewards  of  effort  are  the  accomplishment  of 
something  to  be  done,  and  the  praise  which  follows  success. 
Indeed,  they  are  the  only  substantial  pleasures  of  life.  Poor 
satisfaction  is  it  to  catch  fish  when  you  cannot  bring  them 
home ;  indifferent  reward  to  contemplate  by  one's  self  a  hard- 
won  conquest  after  days  of  travel  and  nights  of  toil,  with 
only  a  wilderness  stream  to  reflect  the  image  of  his  disgust 
afid  discontent.  Chester  is  one  of  the  very  few  places  where 
the  luxury  of  fishing  can  be  enjoyed  without  this  alloy. 


128  NOYA  SCOTIA. 

And  there  is  not  only  one  river,  but  tJiree,  within  six  miles 
of  your  home.  You  can  drive  half  way  to  Gold  River,  and 
fish  the  Middle  River,  a  tolerable  stream,  or  take  the  oppo- 
site direction  to  the  East  River,  a  glorious  runway  for 
salmon,  with  splendid  falls  and  cold  brooks  tumbling  into 
it  at  intervals,  at  the  mouth  of  which  large  trout  can  be 
caught  two  at  a  time,  if  the  angler  be  skilful  enough  to  land 
them  when  they  are  hooked.  If  one  chooses,  he  can  put  up 
at  Mrs.  Frails's,  upon  the  very  bank  of  this  stream,  and  take 
his  morning  and  evening  fishing,  with  a  noon  siesta  and  a 
quiet  cigar  and  book ;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  he  will 
meet  some  oflBcers  from  Halifax,  now  thirty-nine  miles  away 
by  the  stage  route.  Between  this  and  Indian  River,  before 
mentioned,  there  is  no  good  fishing. 

Three  pleasant  seasons  have  I  spent  at  Chester.  I  idolize 
its  very  name.  Just  below  my  window  a  lawn  slopes  down 
to  a  little  bay  with  a  jetty,  where  an  occasional  sloop  lands 
some  stores.  There  is  a  large  tree,  under  which  I  have 
placed  some  seats ;  and  off  the  end  of  the  pier  the  ladies  can 
catch  flounders,  tomcods,  and  cunners,  in  any  quantity. 
There  are  beautiful  drives  in  the  vicinity,  and  innumerable 
islands  in  the  bay,  where  one  can  bathe  and  picnic  to  hearts' 
content.  There  are  sailing-boats  for  lobster-spearing  and 
deep-sea  fishing,  and  row-boats  too.  From  the  top  of  a 
neighboring  hill  is  a  wonderful  panorama  of  forest,  stream, 
and  cultivated  shore,  of  bays  and  distant  sea,  filled  w^ith 
islands  of  every  size  and  shape.  Near  by  is  a  marsh  where  I 
flushed  fourteen  brace  of  English  snipe  one  day  in  July. 
And  if  one  will  go  to  Gold  River,  he  may  perchance  see,  as 
I  have  done,  cariboo  quietly  feeding  on  the  natural  meadows 
along  the  upper  stream.  Beyond  Beech  Hill  is  a  trackless 
forest  filled  with  moose,  with  which  two  old  hunters  living 
near  oft  hold  familiar  intercourse.  They  trapped  a  wild-cat 
last  summer,  and  his  stuffed  skin  is  at  Chester  now. 

Very  much  should  I  like  to  go  over  the  ground  again  with 
the  reader,  or  take  him,  in  imagination  at  least,  to  the  in- 


2!^0VA  SCOTIA.  129 

viting  pools  of  Gold  Riyer ;  but  this  chapter  must  draw  to  a 
close.  Two  miles  up  the  stream,  a  friend  has  a  camp  where 
once  stood  an  Indian  wigwam,  whose  tenants  enjoyed  a 
happy  honeymoon  of  vagrant  life  and  salmon  dipping ;  but 
disaster  fell  upon  them  one  day,  and  the  incidents  thereof 
are  herewith  portrayed  in  rhyme  : 

There's  a  little  conical  camp, 

Contrived  of  a  framework  of  spruce, 
•  With  splits  newly  riven  of  hemlock, 

Exuding  an  odorous  juice. 
A  lawn  from  the  door  gently  sloping, 

To  lave  in  the  river's  bright  gleam  ; 
A  pathway  by  feet  daily  trodden 

Quite  smooth  to  the  edge  of  the  stream. 

In  front  of  the  wigwam  an  eddy, 

Beyond  a  precipitous  shore, 
Where  the  foam  dashes  down  with  madness, 

And  whirls  with  monotonous  roar : 
And  bubbles,  formed  in  the  seething. 

Are  tossed  by  the  waves  to  the  shore — 
Then,  floating  awhile  in  the  eddy. 

Come  up  and  break  at  the  door. 

At  eve,  through  the  dusk  of  the  gloaming, 

Leonta,  with  love's  yearning  soul, 
Awaiteth  her  husband's  returning 

From  his  nets  at  "  Kill  Devil  Hole." 
And  often  and  often  she  looketh. 

Where  sunset  reddens  the  west, 
For  glimpse  of  his  bark-boat  careering 

Far  up  on  the  stream's  foaming*crest. 

(For  danger  lurks  there  in  the  chasm ; 

Elf-goblins  make  it  their  home ; 
The  phantoms  that  flit  there  and  flutter. 

Are  winding-sheets  wrought  of  the  foam !) 

In  vain  !  and  with  tearful  misgivings, 

Till  darkness  settles  at  last ! 
Eyes  strained,  and  swelled  with  long  weeping ! 

A  messenger  cometh  at  last— 

9 


130  ]srOV A   SCOTIA. 

A  waif,  drifting  slow  in  the  eddy, 
A  form  through  the  dusk  dimly  seen — 

Drifting  slow,  with  a  chuckle  and  ripple, 
Like  cadences  soft  of  Undine. 

With  motion  so  strange  and  uncertain, 

It  seems  both  to  come  and  retreat ; 
Till  finally,  fears  all  confirming, 

A  corpse  floateth  up  to  her  feet. 
Heaven  rest  the  agonized  watcher ! 

Foref end  her  from  pain  evermore ! 
Poor  hea^  !  now  stilled  by  its  breaking. 

Like  the  bubbles  that  broke  by  her  door  t 

The  wind  sweepeth  by  with  a  flurry, 
And  swiftly  the  wild  waters  roll ; 

But  neither  winds  nor  waves  shall  efface. 
The  legend  of  "  liiU  Devil  Hole." 


CAPE      BRETON. 


ITH  the  exception  of  the  Margarie  Eiver,  which  is 
one  of  the  most  romantic  and  best-stocked  salmon- 
rivers  in  the  world,  and  occasionally  visited  by  an 
ambitious  or  adventurous  angler  from  other  parts, 
little  is  known  by  outsiders  of  the  waters  of  Cape 
Breton.  There  are  other  fishing  localities  so  much  more  ac- 
cessible, and  attainable  with  less  hardship  and  expense,  that 
they  are  generally  preferred;  while,  if  a  party  be  found  to 
extend  their  researches  to  ultimate  regions,  they  are  apt  to 
go  to  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence,  whither  the  tide  of  inclination 
now  tends.  Nevertheless,  the  journey  to  Cape  Breton  is 
shorter  in  time,  cheaper,  and  in  all  respects  more  comfort- 
able than  to  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence  ;  for  its  remotest  parts 
can  be  easily  reached  by  shallop  from  Port  Hood  on  the  one 
side,  and  Sydney  on  the  other,  with  each  of  v/hicli  places 
there  is  communication  by  steamboat;  while,  for  the  voyage 
down  the  St.  Lawrence  one  must  procure  a  shallop  at  Que- 
bec, and  sail  along  shore  for  hundreds  of  miles. 

A  steamboat  runs  daily  from  Pictou  to  Port  Hood,  and 
thence  there  is  a  stage  journ.ey  of  twenty-eight  miles  to  Why- 
kokomah,  on  Bras  d'Or  Lake,  the  Mediterranean  of  this  land 
of  wonderful  conformation.  This  is  the  only  staging  on  the 
whole  route  between  New  York  and  Sydney!  Whykoko- 
mah,  like  some  village  of  Switzerland,  is  situated  at  the 
head  of  a  beautiful  bay  in  the  bosom  of  an  amphitheatre  of 


132  CAPE   BEETOI^. 

frowning  hills,  whicli  rise  to  a  vast  eminence.  From  this  vil- 
lage an  interior  steamboat  traverses  Bras  d'Or  Lake  to  Sydney, 
touching  at  two  or  three  places  on  the  trip.  A  steamboat 
also  runs  from  Halifax  to  Hawksbury  in  the  Strait  of  Canso, 
and  there  connects  with  a  steamboat  for  Port  Hood.  From 
Sydney  there  is  a  daily  line  of  stages  to  Pictou,  by  which  ac- 
cess is  had  to  the  few  salmon-streams  of  Kichmond  county. 
This  drive  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  long  though  it 
seems,  is  of  the  most  enjoyable  character,  and  is  well  worth 
the  while.  For  the  first  fourth  of  the  distance  it  skirts  the 
base  of  a  mountain-chain  that  crowds  down  to  the  very 
shore  of  one  of  the  arms  of  Lake  Bras  d'Or ;  then  traversing 
a  country  of  constantly  varying  scenery  it  crosses  the  Strait 
of  Canso,  with  its  bold  highlands  and  deep  channels  con- 
stantly crowded  with  vessels  when  the  wind  is  light ;  then 
skirts  the  base  of  the  Tracadie  Mountains,  and  touches  the 
water  again  at  Antigonish ;  then  traverses  the  valley  of  the 
Antigonish  Mountain  range,  and  on  to  the  coal-mines  of 
New  Glasgow,  and  thence  quickly  to  Pictou.  For  a  fort- 
night's summer  cruise,  none  can  be  more  novel  than  one 
from  New  York  or  Boston  which  includes  this  rOund  trip 
from  Pictou  to  Sydney  by  stage,  and  return  by  steamboat. 

The  geographical  features  of  Cape  Breton  are  mountain 
and  lake.  Place  the  open  hand  palm  downward  upon  an 
area  six  times  its  size,  and  you  have  nearly  the  outline  of 
Lake  Bras  d'Or — the  fingers  representing  the  several  bodies, 
of  water  known  as  the  East  Bay,  the  Little  Bras  d'Or,  the 
Great  Bras  d'Or,  and  St.  Patrick's  Channel,  which  extends 
into  the  Bedeque  Eiver,  and  the  thumb  a  large  bay  that 
reaches  almost  to  the  Great  Bay  of  St.  Peter's  on  the  east. 
All  these  several  vast  sheets  of  water  are  indented  by  innu- 
merable coves,  inlets,  and  inflowing  streams.  The  whole 
western  shore  bordering  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  is  a  suc- 
cession of  highlands  that  almost  attain  the  dignity  of  a' 
mountain  range,  slashed  at  long  intervals  by  gorges  through 
which  rivers  like  the  Margarie  flow  to  the  Gulf    Some  of 


CAPE   BKETOiq".  133 

the  slopes  are  cultivated,  but  the  greater  part  is  a  wilderness. 
Mountain  ranges  everywhere  traverse  the  interior.  They 
circumscribe  the  entire  peninsula  which  embraces  the  two 
counties  of  Inverness  and  Victoria,  and  inclose  a  terra  incog- 
nita, known  only  to  the  Indians  and  moose-hunters.  Nearly 
all  the  rivers  of  Inverness  are  frequented  by  sahnon  and 
large  sea-trout,  while  Victoria  possesses  the  noble  Margarie 
with  its  several  branches,  and  the  magnificent  mountain 
lake  from  which  its  volume  is  supplied. 

This  lake  is  easily  reached  by  wagon  from  Whykokomah. 
The  angler  who  has  once  driven  through  Ainshe  Glen  to  its 
shores,  launched  his  canoe  upon  its  broad  waters,  ^nd  en- 
tered its  swiftly  running  stream,  will  never  be  content  to 
return  until  he  has  fished  its  successive  pools  to  its  very 
mouth.  And  when  the  next  summer  comes  with  its  season 
of  pleasure,  he  will  long  to  live  his  experience  over  again. 


NEW    BRUNSV^ICK. 


EW  BRUNSWICK  is  a  region  of  magnificent  dis- 
tances— an  area  of  remarkable  diversity,  whose  cen- 
tral portion  is  a  wilderness  two  hundred  miles  in 
diameter,  interspersed  with  mountains  and  lakes. 
Great  rivers  penetrate  its  interior  in  every  direction, 
sending  out  branches  and  tributaries  as  numerous  and  in- 
tricate as  the  ramifications  of  a  tree,  each  one  containing  sal- 
mon, or  trout,  or  both  together,  and  hundreds  of  which  have 
never  been  fished  by  white  men  at  all !  Often  the  sources 
of  the  main  streams  are  so  contiguous  that  a  portage  of  only 
a  mile  or  two  is  necessary  to  pass  from  one  to  the  other. 
These  are  the  sole  thoroughfares  through  the  wilderness  for 
traveler  and  sportsman ;  and  the  angler  who  elects  to  spend 
a  vacation  there  need  not  establish  himself  in  a  permanent 
camp  at  one  pool  alone,  crowded  for  elbow-room,  but  he  has 
the  entire  range  of  the  water-courses.  Travel — progress — be- 
comes the  business,  and  fishing  at  best  pools  only  the  mere 
incidents  of  his  voyage.  .  The  great  Eestigouche  is  two  hun- 
dred miles  long ;  the  Nepissiguit  one  hundred ;  the  Tobique 
one  hundred  and  fifty ;  the  TJpsalquitch,  a  tributary  of  the 
Eestigouche,  ninety  miles;  and  the  Miramichi  over  two 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  its  mouth  to  North  Branch 
Lake,  which  is  the  source  of  the  North  Branch,  which  is  a 
branch  of  the  South-west  Miramichi,  which  is  a  branch  of 


NEW  BRUKSWICK.  135 

the  main  river.  Then  there  is  a  little  South-west  Miramichi, 
and  the  South  Branch  of  it,  and  the  Little  South  Branch  of 
that,  the  Little  North  Branch,  and  the  Upper  North  Branch. 
Then  there  is  the  North-west  Miramichi  with  its  East  Branch, 
its  South  Branch,  and  so  on,  divisibly  and  indefinitely.  If  a 
friend  tells  you  he  has  fished  the  Miramichi  River,  never  dare 
to  doubt  his  word.  If  he  has  ever  visited  that  part  of  New 
Brunswick,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  has  fished  "anything  else." 

There  is  a  portage  from  the  North-west  Miramichi  into 
the  Nepissiguit,  and  from  the  Nepissiguit  into  the  Tobique, 
and  from  the  South-west  Miramichi  into  the  Nashwaak. 
The  Nashwaak  empties  into  the  St.  John  midway  between 
Woodstock  and  Grand  Falls.  There  are  also  portages  from 
the  Nepissiguit  into  the  Upsalquitch ;  from  the  Eichibucto 
into  Salmon  Eiver;  and  from  the  Upper  Restigouche  to 
Grand  Eiver,  which  empties  into  the  St.  John  above  the 
Grand  Falls.  Although  these  river  routes  cannot  be  recom- 
mended for  invalids  and  the  general  public,  they  are  never- 
theless very  short  cuts  from  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to  the 
State  of  Maine. 

The  Richibucto,  Miramichi,  Nepissiguit,  and  Restigouche 
Rivers  are  reached  from  Shediac  by  the  Gulf  Port  steamers 
weekly,  and  by  the  North  Shore  Line  of  steamers  which 
leave  Shediac  every  Thursday,  connecting  with  the  railway 
from  St.  John.  The  Nashwaak,  Tobique,  and  Grand  Rivers 
are  accessible  from  St.  John  by  daily  steamer  or  stage ;  and 
the  two  last-named  can  be  reached  from  Calais,  Maine,  by 
the  New  Brunswick  and  Canada  railway  to  Woodstock,  and 
thence, by  coach.  During  a  high  stage  of  water  little  steam- 
ers run  the  whole  distance  from  the  city  of  St.  John  to  the 
Grand  Falls.  An  excursion  steamer  also  runs  from  St.  John 
to  Salmon  River  through  the  Grand  Lake.  This  river  is  of 
no  account  to  the  angler ;  and  as  for  the  Richibucto,  it  is 
more  noted  for  its  lumber-mills  and  ship-yards  than  its  salmon. 

There  is  fair  trout  fishing  in  the  vicinity  of  St.  John,  at 
Loch  Lomond,  the  Mispeck  River,  and  Spruce  Lake ;  also 


136  NEW  BKUKSWICK. 

up  the  line  of  the  E.  &  N.  A.  Eailway,  through  Sussex  Yale, 
especially  in  PoUet  Eiver,  which  is  reached  by  wagon  from 
Anagance  Station.  At  this  point  is  the  source  of  the  Peti- 
codiac  Kiver,  the  only  river  at  the  head  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
to  which  salmon  resort  to  spawn.  Twenty-eight  miles  fur- 
ther on,  at  Moncton,  is  the  great  bend  of  the  Peticodiac, 
where  can  be  seen  the  phenomena  of  the  great  "  bore"  or 
tidal  wave  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy  and  the  highest  tides  in 
the  world,  which  here  rise  seventy-six  feet !  The  tide  flows  in 
at  the  rate  of  seven  miles  an  hour,  and  the  "  bore"  in  spring 
is  sometimes  six  feet  high.  The  rushing  of  this  overwhelm- 
ing wave  is  accompanied  by  a  noise  like  distant  thunder. 
There  is  an  excellent  hotel  at  Moncton,  which  affords  a 
pleasant  summer  boarding-place  for  tourists.  The  shops  of 
the  Intercolonial  Eailway  Company  are  located  here. 

A  few  salmon  are  caught  with  fly,  in  the  rivers  to  the  east- 
ward of  St.  John,  and  a  few  in  the  tributaries  of  the  St. 
John  Eiver ;  but  there  is  very  little  opportunity  for  satisfac- 
tory and  successful  angling  south  of  the  latitude  of  Frederic- 
ton,  although  salmon  are  caught  by  thousands  in  nets  at  the 
mouths  of  rivers  and  all  along  shore,  and  constitute  a  very 
considerable  item  of  revenue  to  the  Province.  Indeed,  the 
whole  Province  has  been  a  sort  of  close  corporation  since 
the  Government  took  the  fisheries  under  its  fostering  pro- 
tection and  control.  In  Kings  county  all  the  principal  rivers 
have  been  set  apart  for  natural  propagation.  In  Victoria, 
all  the  salmon  rivers,  including  the  noble  Tobique  and  its 
tributaries,  are  reserved  for  like  purposes.  And  all  the 
streams  of  any  account  whatever,  not  thus  appropriated,  are 
leased  to  private  parties  and  guarded  by  chamberlains  and 
wardens  to  warn  off  trespassers  and  arrest  poachers.  In  the 
good  old  days  a  man  could  cast  his  line  right  and  left  ad 
libitum  in  every  river  and  stream,  regardless  of  times  and 
seasons.  Indians  could  spear  in  the  spawning-beds,  and  dip 
where  dams  and  falls  obstructed  the  passage  of  the  fish, 
maiming  and  destroying  thousands  of  fish  and  countless  mil- 


NEW  BKUNSWICK.  137 

lions  of  undeveloped  spawn ;  mercenary  white  men,  with  an 
eye  to  present  emolument  only,  might  stretch  their  nets 
across  every  channel  so  as  to  capture  all  the  salmon  that  at- 
tempted to  run  up.  Those  were  glorious  days  of  freedom, 
when  every  one  could  do  as  he  pleased,  and  liberty  was  full- 
est license  to  cut  off  one's  own  and  his  neighbor's  future  sup- 
ply of  fish-food.  But  now,  the  oppressed  and  law-beleaguered 
angler  has  no  show  at  all  unless  he  leases  a  river  himself  or 
can  manage  "  to  get  a  rod  in"  through  the  acquaintance  or 
courtesy  of  a  friend  and  lessee.  To  be  sure,  the  favored  few 
who  lease  the  rivers  can  count  the  trophies  of  their  summer's 
fishing  by  the  hundred  or  thousand,  and  find  their  privileges 
becoming  more  valuable  year  by  year,  as  the  stock  of  fish  in- 
creases by  protected  propagation ;  but  then  it  seems  hardly 
fair  that  those  who  purchase  monopolies  or  exclusive  rights 
should  enjoy  them  alone.  They  ought  at  least  to  divide 
with  the  outside  public.  Besides,  since  the  dawn  of  the  era 
of  leases  and  protection  a  new  impulse  has  been  given  to 
fly-fishing.  Every,  pin-hook  fisherman  is  suddenly  seized 
with  a  yearning  to  catch  salmon.  ISTo  other  kind  of  fish  will 
satisfy  them.  There  are  no  restrictions  upon  trout-rods  in 
any  of  the  streams ;  but  trout  are  too  small  game.  What 
sweetness  grows  in  fruit  that  is  forbidden ! 

Just  imagine  a  hundred  tyros  on  a  single  stream,  wielding 
rods  as  cumbrous  as  the  pine-tree  top  with  which  Polyphemus 
bobbed  for  whales,  and  threshing  the  air  with .  a  sivis-s-sh 
that  imitates  a  small  tornado  passing !  What  chances  for  a 
"glorious  rise  "when  their  entomological  devices  drop  into 
the  water  with  a  splash,  or  their  lines  fall  flat  with  many  an 
inextricable  coil  find  snarl !  What  fortunes  small  boys  might 
make  by  cHmbing  trees  for  the  flies,  gut-lengths,  and  leaders 
which  the  neophytes  have  tangled  in  the  overarching  hmbs 
while  fishing!  By  all  means,  Messrs.  Fish  Commissioners, 
open  the  rivers  to  the  indiscriminate  public,  so  that  all  may 
have  a  chance. 

At  Fredericton  we  tread  the  threshold  of  the  "  Salmo  " 


138  NEW  BRUNSWICK. 

kingdom.  Continuing  on  to  the  Tobique  River,  we  will 
prepare  for  a  canoe  voyage  to  the  Nepissiguit,  albeit  we 
are  secluded  from  fishing,  for  salmon.  When  we  have 
crossed  the  heights  of  land  by  the  portage,  and  de- 
scended to  the  Great  Falls  of  Nepissiguit,  we  shall 
doubtless  receive  an  invitation  from  some  of  the  lessees  in 
camp  there  to  "wet  a  line."  Years  ago,  it  was  a  glorious 
sight,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tobique,  to  see  the  Indians  spear- 
ing salmon .  by  torchlight.  At  a  distance,  in  the  night,  the 
torches  looked  like  fire-flies  flitting.  There  is  an  Indian 
village  here,  and  often  there  were  not  less  than  fifty  men 
spearing  at  once.  Right  glorious  pastime  is  it  to  the  novice 
to  sit  in  the  middle  of  the  canoe,  when  so  fortunate  as  to 
receive  such  a  privilege,  and  watch  the  birch-bark  torches 
ghnting  and  flashing  over  the  surface  of  the  stream,  and 
casting  their  lurid  glare  into  the  darksome  depths.  With  a 
motion  that  is  whoUy  noiseless,  and  never  lifting  his  paddle 
from  the  water,  the  Indian  in  the  stern  slowly  and  cautiously 
propels  the  little  craft  across  the  dark  pools  where  the  salmon 
rest.  Under  the  streaming  smoke  and  showering  sparks  of 
the  torch  in  the  bow,  the  spearman  kneels  motionless  as  a 
statue,  with  spear  at  poise.  And  although  the  midges,  or 
minute  sand-flies,  swarm  so  thickly  as  to  cast  a  sort  of  halo 
about  the  torch,  stinging  his  face  and  hands  like  nettles  or 
red-hot  pepper,  not  a  muscle  moves.  Down  at  the  bottom, 
twenty  feet  below,  we  can  see  every  pebble.  There  are 
salmon  lying  there  too,  but  too  deep  down  to  strike,  for  the 
spear-handle  is  no  more  than  twelve  feet  in  length.  Once 
in  a  while  a  big  fish  sculls  slowly  along  nearer  the  surface. 
Ha!  what's  that?  A  subaqueous  shadow  shot  by  like  a 
rocket!  Larry  had  raised  his  spear,  but  the  fish  was  too 
quick  for  him.  Slower  and  more  cautiously  we  move.  The 
progress  is  scarcely  perceptible.  More  motionless  than  ever 
the  statue  in  the  bow  appears.  No  salmon  yet.  Now  we 
are  at  the  head  of  the  "  reach,"  and  turning  ever  so  silently, 
glide  down  stream  with  the  current.    The  paddle  in  the 


KEW  BKUKSWICK.  *  139 

stern  is  totally  at  rest  now.  A  zephyr  could  not  pass  more 
noiselessly.  Looking  steadily  over  the  side,  all  the  pebbles 
on  the  bottom  seem  to  be  running  up  stream  hke  lightning. 
Now  a  huge  boulder,  and  anon  a  straggling  limb  of  a  sunken 
tree,  shoots  by  like  a  flash.  One  would  hardly  think  it 
possible  to  strike  even  one  of  those  boulders,  so  swiftly  do 
we  pass.  Yet  we  are  only  drifting  with  the  current.  Whew ! 
how  the  midges  bite!  "Bite-em-no-see-em,"  the  Indians 
call  them.  No  matter — we  must  suffer  and  endure.  Yet 
'tis  almost  unbearable.  Oh!  for  relief!  Great  heavens! 
what  has  happened !  Larry  overboard !  No !  he  has  struck 
a  salmon.  Do  you  say  so  ?  I  declare  I  didn't  see  him  strike, 
and  I  was  looking  just  there  all  the  time!  The  first  I  knew 
the  canoe  nearly  capsized,  and  I  thought  Larry  was  ovei;- 
board!  Now  he  lifts  the  fish  into  the  -canoe.  AVhat  a 
whopper  it  is,  and  what  a  splash  he  gives  as  he  breaks  the 
surface !  A  twenty-pounder,  I  declare !  Do  you  observe 
how  he  is  struck — perpendicularly  amidships,  with  the  iron 
tine  of  the  spear  driven  into  his  back,  and  the  two  elastic 
hickory  Jaws  grasping  him  firmly  on  either  side.  A  fish 
struck  so  squarely  can  never  get  away.  If  they  are  mutilated 
at  all,  it  is  generally  in  the  fleshy  part  of  the  tail,  where  the 
spear  catches  them  when  they  dart  away.  Gracious !  this 
salmon  will  flop  out  of  the  canoe!:  No— a  quietus  on  the 
head  with  the  paddle !  Now  let  us  go  ashore.  It  is  wonder- 
fully exciting,  I  admit ;  but  then  these  sand-flies !  We  start 
in  the  morning,  I  believe. 

At  early  dawn  the  prows  of  the  canoes  are  discerned  peer- 
ing above  the  bank  on  the  little  point  of  land  that  juts  out 
opposite  the  Indian  village,  just  where  the  Tobique  joins 
the  St.  John.  Four  stalwart  Indians  are  stretched  upon  the 
ground  near  by,  and  a  Httle  fire  is  blazing  at  their  feet. 

"  Halloa !  Are  you  the  men  who  are  to  take  us  up  river  ?" 

"  I  suppose." 

"  Canoes  all  tight  and  dry,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  canoe  dry." 


140  NEW  BKUKSWICK. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  portage  ?  " 

"  Portage — ^yes." 

"  How  far — how  many  miles  ?  " 

"  Dunno." 

"  Fifty  miles,  yon  think  ?  " 

"  I  suppose." 

"  Sixty  miles  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Thirty?" 

"  Yes — suppose  thirty." 

"  Five  hundred  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Plenty  salmon  uj)  there  ?  " 

"Yes— plenty." 

"  Any  moose  ?  " 

"  Yes — moose  too  ?  " 

"  Moose  climb  a  tree  ?" 

"Yes." 

When  an  Indian  is  a  total  stranger  to  you  he  answers  "yes" 
to  all  questions.  Whether  it  be  for  reasons  diplomatic,  or  to 
avoid  all  occasion  for  differences  of  opinion,  the  noble  choco- 
late-colored red  man  is  invariably  non-committal.  It  cannot 
be  said  that  he  ever  leads  the  conversation. 

"  I  say,  what's  your  name^you  with  the  pipe  ?  Are  you 
John?" 

"Yes/' 

"Well,  John,  let  us  put  out.  The  sun  is  getting  up  and 
the  day  will  be  hot.    Come,  men,  stir  yourselves." 

In  half  an  hour  the  canoes  are  loaded  and  ready  for  a 
start.  The  passenger  sits'  on  the  bottom,  facing  up  stream, 
with  his  back  against  the  middle  bar,  over  which  coats  or 
blankets  have  been  thrown  to  make  him  comfortable.  All 
the  boxes,  sacks,  and  hampers  have  been  stowed  amidships, 
just  behind.  The  two  cant)e-men  take  their  places  in  the 
bow  and  stern,  and  with  long  setting-poles,  deftly  wielded, 
gently  push  the  frail  craft  into  the  current.    There,  holding 


I 


NEW  BRUNSWICK.  141 

her  for  an  instant  firmly,  with  poles  set  squarely  on  the  bot- 
tom, they  give  way  with  simultaneous  effort  and  send  her  a 
full  length  forward.  The  two  hundred  mile  yoyage  has  now 
commenced. 

Poling  up  stream  is  as  much  hke  descending  with  the  cur- 
rent as  dragging  a  sled  up  hill  is  like  sliding  down.  Two 
miles  an  hour  is  good  average  speed,  and  twenty  miles  a  fair 
day's  journey.  It  is  marvelous  with  what  untiring  energy 
and  pertinacious  effort  the  Indians  mount  the  long  and 
wearisome  rapids.  Never  pausing,  seldom  speaking,  pushing 
steadily  with  simultaneous  stroke,  the  monotonous  click  of 
their  iron-shod  poles  upon  the  bottom  seems  to  mark  the 
time.  Now  they  pick  up  inch  by  inch  in  the  quickest  cur- 
rent, where  to  miss  a  stroke  is  to  lose  a  rod,  the  stern-man 
seconding  with  electric  quickness  each  effort  of  the  bow-man. 
Anon  they  swing  over  to  the  other  side,  to  take  advantage 
of  an  easier  passage,  meanwhile  borne  downward  by  the  tide 
and  dancing  like  a  feather.  Here  they  run  up  on  an  eddy 
to  the  face  of  a  protruding  boulder  with  the  white  foam  dash- 
ing by  on  either  side,  and,  gathering  up  their  strength,  push 
into  the  rushing  tide  and  up  the  steep  ascent.  Sometimes 
they  climb  actual  falls,  driving  the  prow  inch  by  inch  to  the 
base  of  the  cascade,  where,  holding  on  an  instant  firmly  to 
gain  a  little  purchase,  they  force  the  canoe  by  amazing  dex- 
terity up  the  pitch  until  it  poises  on  the  very  curve  at  an 
angle  of  forty-five.  Here  the  stern-man  holds  hard,  the 
bow-man  with  the  quickness  of  a  flash  gathers  up  his  pole 
and  holds,  the  stern-man  follows  suit,  and  then  both 
together,  by  one  desperate,  vigorous  shoot,  force  her  into 
smooth  water.  During  this  process  the  passenger  clutches 
the  sides  of  the  canoe  like  grim  death,  and  when  all  is  safely 
over  breathes  a  wonderful  sigh  of  relief.  But  the  first  effort 
of  the  canoe-men  does  not  always  succeed.  Sometimes  the 
current  forces  the  canoe  back  in  spite  of  every  resistance, 
and  then  she  drops  down  stream  swiftly,  though  safely,  stern 
foremost,  guided  by  the  ever-ready  expedients  of  the  voya- 


142  NEW  BKUNSWICK. 

geurs.  A  second  attempt  must  then  be  made.  Occasionally 
the  labor  is  varied  by  a  spurt  with  the  paddles  over  a  long 
reach  of  still  water,  or  the  water  runs  over  a  bar  so  shoal  that 
all  hands  have  to  get  out  and  wade,  to  lift  the  canoe  over. 
.  All  this.experience  is  very  exciting  and  interesting  for  the 
first  few  miles.  The  sportsman  is  delighted  with  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  novelty ;  with  the  vivid  green  of  the  foliage 
sparkling  with  morning  dew;  with  the  rush  of  the  cool  and 
limpid  waters,  and  the  lullaby  motion  of  the  craft;  with  the 
towering  hills  and  leafy  woods  that  hallow  his  seclusion ;  and 
the  gentle  breeze  that  wafts  the  smoke  of  his  cigar  astern. 
But  when  it  comes  to  a  matter  of  two  or  three  hundred 
miles,  with  a  journey  of  twenty  days  duration,  the  romance 
wears  off.  In  its  more  practical  bearings  the  .voyage  resolves 
itself  into  a  period  of  sheer  dogged  effort^ — an  obstinate  over- 
coming of  mechanical  forces  by  insufficient  leverage ;  a  test 
of  temper  and  physical  endurance ;  and  a  slow  match  against 
time.  •  Sitting  in  the  comfort  of  one's  slippers  and  cigar,  with 
the  blaze  of  a  winter's  fire  kindling  old  reminiscences,  one  is 
apt  to  forget  the  miseries  of  camp-life.  Of  the  cloud  in  the 
back-ground  he  sees  only  the  silver  fining.  Like  the  wrecked 
and  gasping  sailor  who  swears  never  to  go  to  sea  again,  with 
the  restoration  that  follows  rescue,  he  remembers  only  the 
fascinations  of  his  ocean  life,  and  ships  with  the  first  fair  wind. 
Let  not  the  reader. forget  that  he  who  would  enjoy  the 
charms  and  freedom  of  forest  life,  must  also  put  up  with  its 
drawbacks  and  discomforts.  When  the  first  flush  of  the 
morning  exhilaration  is  over,  and  the  day  grows  sultry ;  when 
the  Indians  begin  to  reek  and  perspire  with  their  exertions ; 
when  the  fimbs  become  cramped  and  ache  from  their  con- 
fined position  ;  when  the  black  flies  swarm  and  attack  with 
persistent  venom ;  when  all  the  birds  and  beasts  have  retired 
to  umbrageous  cover, — then  the  voyage  becomes  painfully 
monotonous ;  the  everlasting  click  of  the  setting-poles  gi-ates 
sharply  upon  the  nerves ;  the  woods  are  painfully  still ;  the 
river  gurgles  in  doleful  monotones  over  the  rocks ;  a  given 


NEW  BRUNSWICK.  143 

object  in  the  channel  above  seems  to  keep  in  sight  for  hours ; 
body  and  limbs  are  sweltering ;  joints  twinge  with  aching ; 
the  mouth  and  tongue  grow  parched  with  thirst,  and  mouth- 
fuls  of  warm  river-water,  hastily  gulped,  are  as  quickly  spewed 
out  again.  How  grateful  then  is  a  copious  draught  from  an 
ice-cold  brook  which  comes  tumbling  into  the  river  from  its 
mountain  source!  How  dehcious  the  shade  of  the  cool  ledge 
under  which  we  take  our  nooning!  Precious  then  is  a  bot- 
tle of  Bass's  ale,  set  in  the  brook  to  cool,  and  drank  with  our 
frugal  meal. 

Very  romantic  is  the  scenery  of  the  Tobique  for  the  first 
eleven  miles.  One  mile  above  the  mouth  commence  the 
rapids  of  the  "Narrows."  The  river  at  this  place  passes 
through  a  chasm  of  an  average  width  of  only  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  with  perpendicular  cliffs  from  fifty  to. one  hun- 
dred feet  high.  Through  this  contracted  channel,  too  nar- 
row to  give  free  vent  to  the  waters  above,  the  river  surges 
and  rushes  with  great  impetuosity,  and  the  projecting  crags 
of  rock  form  violent  whirlpools  which  render  the  passage 
impossible  for  canoes  in  time  of  freshets.  The  "Narrows" 
continue  for  a  mile,  and  then  give  place  to  a  long  reach,  of 
smooth  but  rapid  water..  In  the  next  ten  miles  there  are 
two  more  rapids,  and  above  an  unbroken  stretch  of  clear, 
deep  water  for  seventy  miles,  with,  settlements  along  the 
banks  at  intervals.  Twenty-one  miles  above  the  upper 
rapids,  the  Wapskanegan  flows  in  from  the  east,  and  thirteen 
miles  further  on  the  Agulquac.  Between  these  two  tribu- 
taries the  Tobique  is  filled  with  beautiful  islands,  with  ex- 
tensive fertile  intervales  on  both  its  banks. .  Still  proceeding 
northward,  the  character  of  the  river,  with  its  intervales  and 
islands,  remains  unchanged,  and  its  beauty  is  increased  by 
the  lofty  hills  seen  in  the  distance.  Eighty  miles  from  its 
mouth  are  the  "  Forks,"  where  four  branches  of  the  Tobique 
come  together;  and  from  this  point  the  country  becomes 
broken  and  veiy  mountainous,  and  the  river  narrow. 

Cedar    Brook  is  usually  the  last    camping-ground  for 


144  l^EW  BRUKSWICE. 

anglers  before  reaching  the  portage.  It  is  not  a  first-rate 
place,  for  the  brush  is  thick  and  the  flies  insatiable ;  but 
there  is  a  delicious  rushing  brook,  with  a  patriarchal  cedar 
overhanging  its  margin.  Weary  with  the  long  day's  journey, 
we  will  hastily  construct  a  camp  after  the  approved  Indian 
fashion,  by  hauling  the  canoes  on  shore,  turning  them  half- 
way over,  and  supporting  them  by  the  paddles.  Such  a 
shelter  will  cover  head  and  shoulders,  and  in  a  fine  night, 
with  a  good  fire  blazing  at  the  feet  and  the  lower  limbs  cov- 
ered with  a  blanket  to  keep  off  the  morning  dew,  is  all  that 
one  can  desire.  After  supper  and  pipes  the  eyes  grow  drowsy, 
the  eyehds  close,  and  the  senses  are  hushed  to  slumber  by 
the  rippling  lullaby  of  the  ever-gurgling  brook  that  flows 
noisily  by.  Rising  with  the  dawn,  and  refreshed  by  break- 
fast and  a  bath  before  the  inevitable  black  flies  make  their 
appearance,  the  canoes  are  slid  into  the  water,  the  poles  com- 
mence their  pegging  programme,  and  the  voyage  is  contin- 
ued through  a  channel  that  is  narrow  and  winding,  and 
obstructed  by  jams  of  logs  and  fallen  trees  which  often  have 
to  be  cut  away  to  effect  a  passage.  But  presently  we  emerge 
into  a  pretty  pool,  and  then  mount  a  rapid  overarched  by 
trees  which  spring  from  picturesque  ledges  of  rock  ;  thence, 
traversing  a  shallow  lake,  we  pass  through  a  difficult  channel 
of  almost  dead  water  among  sombre  pines,  and  suddenly 
emerge  into  the  magnificent  basin  of  Nictor  Lake,  the  head- 
waters of  this  remarkable  river. 

The  transition  from  the  close  confinement  of  the  forest 
and  the  narrow  river  into  this  broad  and  beautiful  expanse 
of  gleaming  water  is  most  exhilarating.  Mountains,  varie- 
gated with  the  vivid  foliage  of  the  birch  interspersed  with 
darker  shades  of  evergreen,  enclose  it  on  every  side ;  and 
close  to  its  southern  edge  "  Bald  Mountain  "  lifts  its  massive 
bulk  to  the  height  of  nearly  three  thousand  feet,  wooded  to 
its  summit,  except  where  it  crops  out  in  precipices  of  granite, 
or  long,  gray,  shingly  slopes.  And  in  the  lake  itself,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  mountain,  is  a  little,  enchanting  islet.    This  is 


NEW  BRUNSWICK.  145 

the  highest  land  in  New  Brunswick,  and  from  the  summit 
of  Bald  Mountain  is  a  wondrous  view.  Millions  of  acres  of 
forest,  interspersed  with  lakes,  and  rivers  that  gleam  in  the 
sunshine  like  silver  threads,  are  spread  out  like  a  map 
beneath,  while  Katahdin  and  Mars  Hill  in  Maine,  Tracadie- 
gash  in  Gaspe,  the  Squaw's  Cap  on  the  Kestigouche,  and 
Green  Mountain  in  Victoria  county,  are  all  distinctly  visible 
in  the  distance.    What  a  Paradise  for  a  fortnight's  sojourn ! 

From  Nictor  Lake  the  route  is  up  a  little  stream,  winding 
through  a  hardwood  forest  directly  under  the  shoulder  of 
the  great  mountain,  into  another  lake  about  four  miles  long, 
and  thence  up  a  little  reedy  inlet  to  the  portage.  Here,  the 
canoes  and  camp-stuff  are  carried  two  miles  to  the  Nepissi- 
guit  Lakes,  the  head  of  the  Nepissiguit  River ;  and  thence 
the  journey  is  all  down-hill  to  the  sea.  No  more  arduous 
poling — no  more  struggling  up  rapids !  How  easy  it  is  to 
drift  with  the  current ! 

At  these  beautiful  lakes,  among  this  mountain  scenery,  it 
were  well  to  tarry  for  a  few  days.  Beavers  build  their  dams 
across  the  streams ;  deer  abound  in  the  woods,  and  trout  in 
every  brook. 

The  descent  of  the  Nepissiguit  is  somewhat  monotonous, 
though  the  river  runs  swiftly  throughout  its  whole  course, 
and  is  broken  by  frequent  falls  and  rapids.  Its  upper  part 
winds  its  way  between  perpendicular  cliffs,  and  through  a 
mountainous  wilderness.  Some  thirty  miles  above  its  mouth 
are  the  "  Narrows,"  a  series  of  formidable  rapids  hemmed  in 
by  precipices  of  slate  rocks.  Ten  miles  further  down  are 
the  Great  Falls.  But  of  these,  and  the  river  below,  I  shall 
speak  in  the  chapter  assigned  to  the  salmon-rivers  of  the 
Bay  Chaleur.  No  salmon  are  taken  in  the  Nepissiguit  above 
the  Great  Falls. 

The  Miramichi  is  a  salmon-river  much  in  favor  with  the 

angling  fraternity.    The  favorite  fishing-grounds  begin  at  a 

point  nearly  one  hundred  miles  from  its  mouth,  and  are 

reached  by  stage  from  Newcastle  to  Boiestown,  a  distance  of 

10 


146  XEW  BKUNSWICK. 

some  sixty  miles.  The  intermediate  country  is  settled  and 
cultivated,  and  there  are  straggling  houses  and  clearings  be- 
yond Boiestown.  The  stage-road  continues  through  the 
wilderness  from  Boiestown,  cutting  off  an  immense  bend  of 
■the  Miramichi,  and  strikes  the  Nashwaak  Eiver  at  Stanley 
Post  Office,  and  Cross  Creek  Settlement.  Thence  it  con- 
tinues to  the  River  St.  John  and  Fredericton.  Sportsmen, 
however,  who  are  seeking  wild  adventure,  will  prefer  to  take 
canoes  at  Boiestown,  and  ascend  to  the  Miramichi  Lakes ; 
then  portage  over  to  the  Nashwaak,  and  descend  that  river. 
The  principal  salmon-pools  of  all  the  rivers  are  generally 
near  the  mouths  of  brooks  and  larger  tributaries.  So,  in  the 
Miramichi,  we  find  the  favorite  fishing-stands  are  at  Salmon 
Brook,  Eocky  Brook,  Clearwater  Brook,  and  Burnt  Hill 
Brook,  successively  as  we  ascend.  These  are  about  ten  miles 
apart.  At  Grassy  Island,  near  Burnt  Hill  Brook,  the  river 
runs  swiftly  through  a  narrow  gorge,  and  is  broken  into 
numberless  eddies  as  it  strikes  the  rocks  that  are  scattered 
through  the  channel.  Here  there  are  some  famous  casts, 
and  upon  a  sunken  ledge  the  angler  can  wade  out  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  deep  waters,  and  cover  the  entire  channel 
with  his  liiie  from  his  feet  to  the  other  side. 

After  passing  the  portage  into  the  Nashwaak  Eiver,  the 
course  lies  through  an  undulating  forest  for  thirty  miles, 
and  then  strikes  the  settlements  which  line  both  sides  of  the 
river  to  its  confluence  with  the  St.  John.  A  few  minutes 
suffice  to  cross  the  ferry  to  Fredericton,  and  then  with  mine 
host  of  the  Barker  House  all  the  comforts  of  civilization  are 
attainable,  and  all  the  more  relished  after  a  fortnight's 
roughing  it  in  the  woods. 

Other  principal  salmon  and  trout  rivers  of  the  Province 
are  the  Kouchibouquac  and  Kouchibouquasis  (the  terminal 
"sis"  in  the  Indian  vernacular  signifying  "httle"),  the  Ta- 
busintac,  the  Tracadie,  the  Pockmouche,  the  Caraquette, 
and  the  TJpsalquitch.  With  the  exception  of  the  first  two 
ai^d  the  last-named,  these  rivers  lie  between  the  Miramichi 


KEW  BRUNSWICK.  147 

and  the  Nepissiguit.  The  Upsalquitch  is  generally  fished  by 
Eestigouche  anglers,  and  properly  belongs  to  the  Bay  Chaleur 
division.  A  stage-road  runs  from.  Chatham  on  the  Mirami- 
chi  to  Bathurst,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Nepissiguit.  The  dis- 
tance is  forty-five  miles;  nearly  all  through  a  wilderness 
almost  uninhabited,  and  crossed  by  many  an  excellent  trout- 
stream.  But  the  chief  of  all  the  streams,  and  perhaps  abso- 
lutely the  best  in  the  world  for  trout,  if  such  a  comparison 
can  be  fairly  made,  is  the  Tabusintac.  Here  trout  can  be 
caught  by  the  barrel-full,  of  which  I  guarantee  none  will 
weigh  less  than  ten  ounces,  and  the  largest  as^uch  as  five 
or  six  pounds. 

After  a  ride  of  twenty-two  miles  from  Chatham  to  the  Ta- 
busintac, we  cheerfully  leave  the  coach  on  the  hill  at  Har- 
ris's, and  bestow  ourselves  in  the  comfortable  apartments  of 
his  snug  little  hostelry.  There  is  ample  opportunity  before 
sunset  to  prepare  for  the  sport  to-morrow,  and  time  for 
a  leisure  stroll  along  the  river,  and  about  the  premises ;  and 
when  that  luxurious  pipe  which  follows  a  Christian  supper 
has  been  twice  replenished  and  emptied,  we  are  ready  to  re- 
tire for  an  early  start  in  the  morning.  When  dayhght 
dawns,  there  succeeds  an  experience  not  read  of  in  books. 
While  we  are  hastily  munching  our  last  mouthful  of  break- 
fast, Harris  politely  informs  us  that  the  "horse-boat"  is 
ready.  Horse-boat!  what  horse-boat?  I  thought  we  were 
going  in  a  birch-canoe !  What  have  horses  to  do  with  trout^ 
fishing  ?  N^im2)orte,  we  shall  see.  Arrived  at  the  river,  we 
find  an  immense  pirogue,  "  dug-out,"  or  wooden  canoe, 
alongside  the  bank,  in  the  stern  of  which  we  are  told  to  sit. 
Having  adjusted  ourselves  to  the  satisfaction  of  everybody, 
a  pair  of  heavy  horses  is  attached  to  the  vehicle,  the  word  is 
given,  and  off  we  go  down  the  river  at  a  tearing  pace,  slash- 
ing the  water  in  every  direction,  and  ploughing  up  a  swell 
that  swashes  against  the  banks,  runs  spitefully  up  on  shore, 
and  then  trickles  down  in  rivulets  of  mud.    Life  on  the 


i 


148  NEW   BRUNSWICK. 

"raging  canawl"  is  nothing  to  it!  Such  quick  time  was 
never  made  in  the  Erie  ditch. 

The  best  anghng  grounds  are  some  eight  or  ten  miles 
down,  but  the  horses  are  occasionally  halted  at  a  good  hole, 
from  which  a  few  pound-trout  are  taken.  Then  they  are 
cracked  up  again,  and  away  they  gallop  through  brambles 
and  hazel  brush,  and  under  arching  branches  which  droop  so 
low  as  to  sweep  off  the  deck-load  clean  and  leave  loose  hats 
floating  twenty  rods  astern.  The  river  is  rather  narrow  and 
in  some  places  shallow,  but  so  transparent  that  in  the  deepest 
holes  we  can  see  the  great  trout  swimming  in  schools  that 
darken  the  bottom.  At  the  "  Big  Hole,"  however,  is  the  place 
to  fish.  There  the  horses  are  tied  up,  and  the  sport  begins. 
No  use  putting  on  more  than  one  fly  here !  You  are  certain 
to  take  as  many  trout  as  there  are  hooks,  every  time ;  and  it 
is  no  ordinary  angler  who  can  land  two  heavy  fish  from  the 
same  cast.  Here  one  can  bring  his  barrel  of  salt  and  take 
home  his  three  barrels  of  fish  dressed  and  split,  at  the  end 
of  a  week.  There  are  splendid  camping  places  all  along  the 
banks,  which  invite  the  angler  to  tarry  long ;  but  a  week  of 
slaughter  will  be  found  sufficient.  One  tires  of  excess,  even 
in  trout-fishing.  To  those  who  cast  their  lines  in  ordinary 
streams,  these  may  seem  fishermen's  stories ;  but  truth  it  is  that 
four  hundred  and  forty  fish  have  been  taken  in  one  day  from 
the  Tabusintac  on  a  single  heavy  bait-rod ! 

Very  few  salmon  visit  these  waters  from  year  to  year ;  but 
under  the  new  regime  and  efforts  of  the  Fishery  Inspectors, 
it  is  beheved  that  they  will  presently  become  abundant. 

We  take  the  stage  in  the  morning  for  Bathurst,  on  the  Bay 
Chaleur. 


BAIE    DES     CHALEURS.* 


'HE  great  Bay  Chaleur  or  "Bay  of  Heats"  divides 
the  Canadian  district  of  Gaspe  from  the  northern 
counties  of  New  Brunswick.  It  extends  for  more 
than  sixty  miles  from  its  entrance  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Eiver  Kestigouche.  At  that  point  it  is  three 
miles  wide,  and  receives  the  waters  of  not  less  than  sixty 
rivers  and  streams !  Nearly  all  of  these  abound  in  sea-trout, 
brook-trout  or  salmon,  or  all  three  together.  From  the  early 
period  of  its  discovery  and  settlement,  when,  in  1578,  no  less 
than  330  fishing  vessels  found  remunerative  fares  within  its 
teeming  waters,  until  the  present  day,  the  Bay  Chaleur-  has 
been  a  resort  for  fishermen.  It  was  always  noted  for  the 
large  size  of  its  salmon ;  and  only  as  recently  as  thirty  years 
ago,  they  averaged  eleven  to  the  barrel  of  two  hundred  pounds. 
Even  now  an  occasional  fish  is  caught  weighing  as  much  as 
forty  pounds.  Although  both  quantity  and  size  of  fish  had 
greatly  diminished  previously  to  1868  (at  which  time  the 
New  Dominion  Fishery  Inspection  was  established),  the  ex- 
port continued  large  in  fresh  fish  packed  in  ice  and  in  cans, 
and  smoked.  Since  the  rivers  have  been  protected,  the  stock 
of  fish  has  rapidly  increased,  and  the  principal  streams  are 
regaining  their  old  prestige. 

*  See  Harper's  Magazine,  Vol.  XXXVI.,  page  424. 


150  BAIE   DES   CHALEUES. 

The  Gulf  Port  steamers  which  ply  weekly  between  Quebec 
and  Pictou,  touch  at  Dalhousie  and  Campbelltown ;  and  the 
North  Shore  steamers  touch  also  at  Bathurst  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Nepissiguit.  The  sportsman  who  has  time  for  a 
summer  cruise  should  continue  his  coach  journey  from  the 
Tabusintac  to  Bathurst,  and  putting  up  at  John  Ferguson's 
hotel,  examine  the  attractive  little  town  with  its  shipyards, 
its  lumber-mills,  its  fish-canning  establishments,  its  church 
spires,  court-house,  handsome  private  residences,  and  adja- 
cent farms.  It  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  the 
Province.  It  is  located  upon  two  elevated  points  of  land 
connected  by  a  bridge,  and  commands  a  picturesque  view  of 
Bathurst  Bay  and  its  islands.  Four  rivers  run  together  and 
form  a  magnificent  basin,  along  whose  undulating  shores  are 
scattered  pretty  cottages  and  farms.  This  town  is  supposed 
to  have  been  occupied  by  colonists  of  M.  Jean  Jacques 
Enaud,  as  early  as  1638. 

The  season  for  fly-fishing  in  the  Bay  commences  as  late  as 
the  20th  of  June,  and  continues  until  the  20th  of  August ; 
but  the  harvest-time  is  from  the  20th  of  July  until  the  10th 
of  August.  By  the  1st  of  August  the  black  flies  have  com- 
pleted the  period  of  their  ranging  to  and  fro  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth,  and  the  millennium  commences.  Here  at 
Bathurst  the  angler  can  take  his  carriage  or  wagon  and  drive 
to  the  "  Narrows,"  or  to  "  Pabineau  Falls,"  spend  the  day  in 
fishing,  and  then,  encasing  his  scaly  trophies  in  envelopes  of 
spruce  boughs,  tied  neatly  with  cedar  roots,  stem,  stern,  and 
amidships  (to  speak  in  sailor  lingo),  lay  them  lovingly  in  the 
bottom  of  his  vehicle,  and  drive  home  elated  by  his  good 
fortune  and  the  trophies  of  his  skill. 

The  reader  must  constantly  bear  in  mind  that  all  these 
delectable  rivers  are  leased,  and  that  these  unusual  privileges 
are  obtainable  only  by  purchase  or  favor.  The  universal 
panacea  for  one's  envy  in  these  cases  is  an  application  to  the 
Fisheries  Department  at  Ottawa  and  a  deposit  of  two  hun- 
dred dollars  or  so  for  a  lease. 


BAIE  DES  CHALEUBS.  151 

All  the  salmon-fishing  of  the  Nepissiguit  is  included  be- 
tween its  mouth  and  the  "  Great  Falls."  At  the  last  locahty 
the  river  is  very  much  contracted,  and  the  banks  are  rocky 
and  perpendicular.  The  total  height  of  the  Falls  is  one 
hundred  and  forty  feet.  There  are  four  separate  leaps,  but 
only  the  two  lowest  are  visible  from  below.  At  the  foot  of 
each  are  deep  basins,  and  below  them  for  about  a  mile  a 
number  of  gloomy  pools  and  rapids,  which  seethe  with  per- 
petual foam  and  chafe  with  deafening  roar.  And  the '  con- 
stantly rising  spray  keeps  ever  fresh  with  a  vivid  green  the 
foliage  that  crowns  the  impinging  chfis.  Birds  congregate 
here  in  the  summer  heats,  and  luxuriate  in  the  coolness  of 
the  spray  and  verdure.  Here  in  the  spring,  when  drives  of 
logs  come  bowling  down  on  the  surge  of  the  freshets,  they 
shoot  the  precipice  with  a  terrific  leap,  and  diving  into  the 
projecting  angles  and  ledges  of  rock  end  foremost,  are  often 
splintered  or  shattered  to  pieces.  It  is  a  grand  sight  to  see 
the  logs  careering  on  the  tumbhng  billows  toward  the 
chasm— an  ever-shifting,  pitching,  surging  mass — and  then, 
charging  in  close  phalanx,  or  singly,  and  by  twos  and  threes, 
leap  the  frightful  brink.  Now  one  strikes  its  end  upon  a 
hidden  ledge,  and  plunges  into  the  abyss  with  a  desperate 
somerset.  Anon  a  veteran  stick,  some  seventy  feet  long 
and  straight  as  an  arrow,  floats  majestically  down,  scarcely 
moved  by  the  commotion,  and  with  a  stately  dignity  and 
tremendous  impetus  clears  the  verge  at  a  bound.  For  an 
instant  its  vast  length  hangs  in  air,  then  turning  quickly  it 
strikes  the  pool  with  a  perpendicular  fall  on  end,  and  direct- 
ly vanishes  from  sight.  For  one  long  and  anxious  moment 
it  is  lost  in  the  black  and  unknown  depths ;  then  suddenly 
it  shoots  up  from  the  surface  like  a  great  rocket,  forcing 
three-fourths  of  its  length  out  of  the  water,  totters  for  an 
instant,  and  falling  with  a  mighty  splash,  hurries  down 
stream  to  mingle  with  its  fellows.  I  suppose  that  for  wild 
commotion  and- weird  effects  these  falls  are  unsurpassed  by 


152  BAIE  DES   CHALEUKS. 

any;  and  the  passage  of  the  logs  add  materially  to  their  fan- 
tastic features. 

After  escaping  from  the  gorge  below,  the  Nepissiguit  pur- 
sues a  quiet  course  between  low  banks  for  a  little  more  than 
three  miles,  and  then  tumbles  over  a  succession  of  ridges 
called  the  "  Chain  of  Eocks."  Three  or  four  miles  further 
down  is  another  charming  spot  known  as  the  Middle  Land- 
ing. Just  below  this  spot  is  a  splendid  pool  with  a  pretty 
rocky  island  in  it,  called  Betaboc,  or  "  Eock  Island  in  the 
Long  Pool."  A  pleasanter  camping-ground  can  hardly  be 
imagined.  The  scenery  of  these  several  localities  is  by  no 
means  imposing,  but  it  is  full  of  interest  to  those  who  love 
the  wayward  and  fantastic  play  of  the  purest  waters,  and  all 
those  indescribable  charms  peculiar  to  the  lone  wilderness. 
Still  farther  down  the  river,  and  seven  miles  from  Bathurst, 
are  the  Pabineau  or  Cranberry  Falls,  which  consist  of  a  series 
of  chutes  and  small  falls,  declining,  perhaps,  within  the  space 
of  half  a  mile,  at  an  angle  of  thirty  degrees.  The  rocks, 
which  are  a  gray  granite,  frequently  present  the  appearance 
of  massive  masonry,  so  square  and  regular  are  they  in  form, 
while  some  isolated  blocks  look  as  if  they  had  just  been  pre- 
pared for  the  corner-stones  of  a  stupendous  edifice.  Although 
located  in  a  dense  forest,  the  rocks  slope  so  gently  and  con- 
veniently, and  yet  so  boldly,  to  the  very  margin  of  the  rapids 
and  pools,  that  one  can  enjoy  the  various  prospects,  both  up 
and  down  the  river,  with  the  greatest  ease  and  comfort. 
Midway  between  the  Pabineau  Falls  and  the  mouth  of  the 
Nepissiguit,  there  is  a  long  reach  of  the  river  known  as  the 
Rough  Waters,  where  a  number  of  huge  tocky  barriers  have 
been  thrown  across  the  stream  by  a  convulsion  of  Nature ; 
the  effect  of  this  strange  scenery  would  be  gloomy  and  de- 
pressing, were  it  not  for  the  superb  pools  of  deep  and  dark 
water  which  take  the  fancy  captive  and  magnetize  the 
nerves  of  the  angler. 

This  river  is  leased  by  Nicholson  of  St.  John,  and  three 
other  gentlemen. 


I 


BAIE  DES  CHALEUES.  153 

The  next  salmon  river  of  importance  up  the  Bay  is  the 
River  Jacquet,  a  rapid  stream  scarcely  navigable  for  canoes, 
leased  a  year  ago  by  Dr.  J.  G.  Wood,  of  Poughkeepsie.  Then 
comes  the  River  Charlo,  with  its  two  branches,  a  stream 
much  resorted  to  by  the  anglers  of  Dalhonsie.  A  few  miles 
further  is  Eel  River,  which,  although  not  a  salmon  stream, 
affords  fair  trout-fishing,  and  a  good  run  of  sea-trout  (Salmo 
trutta),  in  their  season.  Across  the  mouth  of  this  river,  the 
sea  has  thrown  a  natural  sand-bar  a  mile  in  length,  and 
formed  a  large  shallow  basin,  surrounded  by  low  swampy 
ground,  which  in  the  fall  of  the  year  actually  swarms  with 
wild  fowl  of  every  variety.  Here  they  stop  to  feed  on  their 
migrations  to  the  south — wild  geese,  brant,  ducks,  curlew, 
snipe,  sheldrakes,  and  the  entire  family  of  web-footed,  yellow- 
legged,  and  long-billed  water  birds.  Next  comes  the  majestic 
Restigouche,  which  forms  the  boundary  line  for  seventy  miles 
between  New  Brunswick  and  Canada ;  and  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Bay  are  the  several  salmon  streams  of  Gaspe — the 
Great  and  Little  Nouvelle  Rivers,  the  Caspapediac,  the  Es- 
cuminac,  Bonaventure,  and  Port  Daniel.  The  Caspapediac 
is  leased  by  Mr.  Sheddon,  of  Montreal. 

The  Gaspe  district  is  scantily  wooded,  and  its  shores  are 
occupied  chiefly  by  fishing  stations.  Carleton  is  a  pretty 
town,  to  which  a  little  steamer  sometimes  runs  from  Dal- 
honsie, rendering  the  salmon  streams  in  the  vicinity  quite 
accessible.  When  the  sun  shines,  its  white  cottages,  nestling 
at  the  foot  of  the  majestic  Tracadiegash  Mountain,  glisten 
like  snow-flakes  against  the  sombre  background,  and  gleam 
out  in  lovely  contrast  with  the  clouds  that  cap  the  summit 
of  this  outpost  sentinel  of  the  Alleghany  range.  Dalhonsie 
is  situated  on  a  headland,  and  with  Maguasha  Point  guards 
the  entrance  of  the  Restigouche,  which  is  here  three  miles 
wide.  To  a  person  approaching  by  steamer  from  the  sea, 
is  jJresented  one  of  the  most  superb  and  fascinating  pan- 
oramic views  in  Canada.  The  whole  region  is  mountainous, 
and  almost  precipitous  enough  to  be  Alpine ;  but  its  gran- 


154  BAIE   DES   CHALEURS. 

deur  is  derived  less  from  cliifs,  chasms,  and  peaks,  than  from 
far-reaching  sweeps  of  outline,  and  continually  rising  domes 
that  mingle  with  the  clouds.  On  the  Gaspe  side  precipitous 
cliffs  of  brick-red  sandstone  flank  the  shore,  so  lofty  that 
they  seem  to  cast  their  gloomy  shadows  half  way  across  the 
Bay,  and  yawning  with  rifts  and  gullies,  through  which  fret- 
ful torrents  tumble  into  the  sea.  Behind  them  the  moun- 
tains rise  and  fall  in  long  undulations  of  ultra-marine,  and, 
towering  above  them  all,  is  the  famous  peak  of  Tracadigash 
flashing  in  the  sunlight  hke  a  pale  blue  amethyst.  On  the 
New  Brunswick  side  the  snowy  cottages  of  Dalhousie  climb 
a  hill  that  rises  in  three  successive  ridges,  backed  by  a  range 
of  fantastic  knobs  and  wooded  hills  that  roll  off  to  the  limit 
of  vision.  Passing  up  the  river,  now  placid  and  without  a 
ripple,  two  wooded  islands  seem  floating  upon  its  surface. 
On  the  Gaspe  side  are  successive  points  of  lands,  once 
guarded  by  French  batteries,  but  now  overgrown  with  trees ; 
and  opposite  is  "  Athol  House,"  for  eighty  years  the  residence 
of  the  Ferguson  family,  and  the  most  pretentious  mansion 
in  this  section.  Sixteen  miles  up  is  Campbelltown,  at  the 
head  of  navigation,  with  the  round  knob  of  "Sugar  Loaf" 
Mountain  just  in  its  rear.  Opposite,  and  reached  by  a  ferry, 
is  the  Micmac  Mission  Station,  with  its  httle  chapel  and  two 
hundred  huts;  and  eight  miles  further  the  old  Metis  or 
Kempt  Eoad,  which  crosses  the  Gaspe  Mountains  to  the  St. 
Lawrence,  one  hundred  miles  over.  Still  passing  up  stream 
the  scenery  becomes  yet  more  picturesque.  The  river  is  filled 
with  wooded  and  grassy  islands,  upon  which  herds  of  cattle 
feed ;  and  where  the  river  occasionally  runs  over  a  rapid,  or 
eddies  around  a  point,  a  salmon  may  be  taken  with  a  fly. 
In  the  foreground  the  mountains  impinge  closely  upon  the 
stream,  and  .between  two  high  knobs  the  Matapedia  rushes 
down  and  joins  the  Restigouche.  Just  here,  at  the  junction 
of  the  two  rivers,  is  the  aristocratic  mansion  of  Daniel  Fraser, 
Esq.,  the  lord  of  a  regal  realm  of  a  thousand  acres,  who 
always  extends  a  welcome  hand    and  hearth  to  anglers. 


BAIE   DES   CHALEUKS.  155 

Here  is  an  unfinislied  section  of  the  Intercolonial  Railway, 
over  which  trains  will  presently  run,  and  turning  a  curve 
around  an  angle  of  a  mountain  spur,  whisk  their  way  up  the 
Metapedia  Valley.  Here  are  a  store  and.  telegraph  station ; 
and  here  the  sportsman,  upon  the  eve  of  his  departure  for 
the  inner  wilderness,  may  telegraph  an  adieu  to  his  friends  at 
home,  and  fit  out  with  canoes,  guides,  and  provisions  for  his 
voyage.  The  railroad  follows  a  mail  route  up  the  Metapedia, 
over  which  a  wagon  runs  at  present  to  St.  Flavie,  on  the  St. 
Lawrence,  whence  coaches  run  to  the  present  railway  ter- 
minus at  Riviere  du  Loup,  a  hundred  and  forty  miles.  The 
Metapedia  is  an  excellent  salmon  stream,  and  heads  in  the 
Metapedia  Lakes  sixty  miles  up. 

From  Eraser's  to  the  Patapedia,  a  distance  of  twenty-one 
miles,  the  Eestigouche  runs  between  two  lofty  mountain 
ranges,  which  occasionally  recede  from  the  shore.  A  few 
miles  up  is  the  Upsalquitch,  famous  for  its  trout  and  salmon. 
At  intervals  cold  brooks  tumble  into  the  river,  and  islands 
fill  the  channel  where  it  widens.  There  are  occasional 
houses  for  the  first  ten  miles,  and  a  wagon  road  follows  the 
left  bank.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Patapedia  is  a  splendid  sal- 
mon pool  and  fine  trout-fishing.  Then  more  precipitous 
mountains  succeed.  There  are  alternate  pools  and  rapids, 
more  islands,  and  more  cold  brooks  dashing  down.  In  some 
localities  there  are  delicious  white-fish  similar  to  the  Corrego- 
nous  alius,  which  the  Indians  spear  in  considerable  quantities, 
and  a  species  of  large  lake-trout  called  "  tuladi,"  which  grows 
to  a  weight  of  fifteen  or  twenty  pounds.  Twenty  miles  above 
the  Patapedia,  and  sixty  miles  from  Fraser's,  is  the  Quahtah- 
wahtomkedgewick  River,  called  Tom  Kedgewick  for  conven- 
ience— a  large  tributary,  sixty  miles  long,  from  the  head  of 
which  is  a  portage  to  the  sources  of  the  Rimouski,  which 
empties  into  the  St.  Lawrence  a  few  miles  below  the  Trois 
Pistoles.  Six  miles  from  its  mouth  is  Falls  Brook,  so  named 
from  a  pretty  waterfall  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  stream,  which 
tumbles  over  splintered  ledges  of  rock  into  a  green  pool 


156  BAIE  DES   CHALEUKS. 

which  swarms  with  salmon.  Four  miles  further  up  the  Tom 
Kedgewick  is  Clearwater  Brook,  where  there  is  another 
splendid  salmon  pool.  This  river  and  its  tributaries  were 
last  year  set  apart  by  the  Canadian  Government  for  natural 
and  artificial  fish-breeding.  A  short  distance  below,  where 
the  Tom  Kedgewick  joins  the  Eestigouche,  there  are  roman- 
tic cliffs  of  naked  granite,  which  descend  perpendicularly 
into  an  inky  pool  which  the  Indians  say  has  no  bottom ;  and 
they  also  say  that  a  patriarchal  salmon  resides  in  its  unknown 
depths,  *^  as  big  as  one  canoe,"  which  has  evaded  all  attempts 
at  capture  for  generations  past.  Near  by  is  a  deserted  cabin 
that  once  belonged  to  a  hermit  by  the  name  of  Cheyne,  who 
was  drowned  some  years  since.  At  the  confluence  of  the 
Kedgewick  and  the  Eestigouche  is  a  level  tract  of  meadow- 
land  with  a  house  inhabited — the  only  dwelling  between  the 
portage  and  the  Patapedia.  From  hence  the  route  is 
through  an  unbroken  forest,  and  a  district  no  longer  mount- 
ainous ;  but  the  grade  is  ^teep  and  the  current  rapid.  At 
the  mouths  of  many  of  the  brooks  four-pound  trout  can  be 
caught  with  anything  that  looks  hke  bait.  Beavers  abound. 
Beaver  "cuttings"  and  trees  that  they  have  felled  with  their 
teeth  are  seen  at  frequent  intervals.  The  wilderness  is  filled 
with  moose  and  cariboo,  lynx,  and  various  kinds  of  fur-bear- 
ing animals.  Hither  trappers  come  in  winter,  and  return 
in  spring  laden  with  galore  of  pelts. 

The  portage  to  the  Grand  Eiver  is  some  thirty  miles  above 
the  Tom  Kedgewick.  Into  a  thicket  of  densest  alders  which 
disclose  no  opening,  the  canoe  turns  abruptly  and  passes  into 
a  sluggish  creek.  This  creek  is  deep  and  shallgw  by  turns, 
scarcely  wide  enough  for  the  canoe  to  pass,  and  as  crooked  as 
a  double  letter  S.  Nowhere  does  it  follow  a  straight  course 
for  a  dozen  rods  together,  and  it  is  so  overgrown  with  bushes 
that  frequent  use  of  the  hatchet  is  requked  to  force  a  pass- 
age. This  continues  for  two  miles,  and  then  the  canoes  are 
hauled  out,  and,  with  the  luggage,  carried  a  mile  and  a  half  to 
another  similar  creek  of  half  the  length.    This  leads  into  the 


BAIE  DES  CHALEURS.  157 

Grand  Eiver,  a  crooked  but  wide  and  deeply-flowing  stream 
—and  thence  the  journey  to  St.  John  is  all  down  hill  and 
easy.  The  nasty  little  creeks  that  make  this  portage  so  in^ 
tensely  disagreeable  are  called  the  Waagan  and  Waagansis 
respectively.  Emigrants  sometimes  travel  this  route  with  a 
pirogue,  and  attaching  horses  to  the  craft,  pull  through  with 
comparative  ease. 

The  journey  down  the  Grand  River,  fourteen  miles,  is  run 
in  about  two  hours,  and  brings  us  to  the  Acadian  settlement 
of  Madawaska,  on  the  St.  John.  A  mile  above  its  month  it 
is  crossed  by  a  bridge,  over  which  passes  the  mail  route  from 
Grand  Falls  to  Riviere  du  Loup.  Just  at  the  bridge  is  the 
house  of  one  Violet,  a  hospitable  Frenchman,  who  has  enter- 
tained many  a  sportsman,  to  say  nothing  of  scores  of  lum- 
bermen and  emigrants,  who  never  solicited  assistance  in 
vain.  The  Royal  Mail  Route,  a  most  excellent  road,  was  the 
regular  winter  route  of  travel  between  the  Lower  Provinces 
and  Quebec  until  the  completion  of  the  railway  between 
St.  John  and  Bangor  last^ear.  During  the  late  war  it  was 
much  used  by  the  Confederates,  who  passed  from  Canada  to 
Halifax,  and  thence  by  sea  through  the  blockade  into  the 
seceded  States.  It  runs  through  the  Madawaska  settlement 
for  twenty  miles,  skirting  the  St.  John  River,  and  then  turns 
off  and  follows  the  valley  of  the  Madawaska  River  to  Temis- 
couata  Lake.  Upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  St.  John  is  the 
State  of  Maine.  The  entire  Madawaska  settlement  extends 
sixty  miles,  and  the  population  is  about  6,000.  One-half  are 
English  and  the  other  half  Yankees ;  yet  all  are  FrenchmeUy 
and  speak  no  English !  And  the  little  fenced-off  farms,  of 
uniform  frontage  but  running  back  indefinitely,  the  hay- 
ricks and  well-tilled  fields,  the  sleek  cattle,  the  clumsy  wains 
and  rude  cabriolets,  the  houses  of  squared  logs,  painted  in 
Indian  red,  with  doors  of  gaudy  ^colors,  the  quaint  little 
chapels  and  the  windmills,  are  all  of  Normandy.  Then  the 
interior  of  each  house — the  large,  open,  uncarpeted  rooms. 


158  BAIE  DES  OHALEUKS. 

with  their  polished  floors,  the  antique,  wood-bottomed  chairs, 
the  low  settles,  the  bedsteads  set  in  niches,  the  loom  and  the 
spinning-wheel,  the  rude  little  crucifixes  and  the  pictures  of 
the  Virgin  and  saints  that  ornament  the  walls — do  they  not 
perpetuate  a  history  purely  Acadian  ?  And  the  impassiye 
maitre  de  maison  in  his  blue  homespun  blouse  and  capote, 
madame  in  kirtle  and  snowy  cap,  the  lasses  w^ith  plaited  hair 
and  blue  woolen  petticoats,  and  the  group  of  reserved  and 
passive  children — are  they  not  the  reproductions  of  the  pen 
that  sketched  Evangeline  ?  It  is  a  beautiful  web  of  fancy 
and  fact  that  Longfellow  wove,  and  truthful  in  all  its  colors, 
hghts,  and  shades ;  but  who  that  pays  his  addresses  to  the 
charming  maiden,  can  dissipate  the  pungent  odor  of  garlic 
and  melted  fat  that  constantly  pervades  the  homely  kitchen  ? 
Who  will  dare  confide  the  custody  of  his  epicurean  palate  to 
a  sylph-like  creature  w^hose  daily  diet  is  black  buckwheat 
bread  and  hard-fried  eggs  minced  with  pork  scraps?  and 
who  will  dare  trust  himself,  with  this  knowledge,  to  gaze  into 
the  jet  of  her  lustrous  eyes,  or  taste  the  peach  bloom  of  her 
cheeks,  or  hsten  to  the  iEolian  of  her  musical  voice  ? 

Why  should  the  poets  tantalize  us  thus  ? 

To  continue :  At  Temiscouata  Lake  the  angler  can  stop 
over  at  Fournier's,  known  by  all  travelers  and  stage-drivers 
for  many  years,  and  fish  for  "tuladi."  In  the  broad  waters 
of  this  lake,  and  in  the  neighboring  chains  of  lakes,  this 
remarkable  species  of  the  Salmo  family,  the  great  gray  trout,- 
may  be  found.  And  when  he  has  surfeited  himself  v^ith 
sport,  he  may  resume  his  journey,  and  by  pleasure  of  kind 
Providence  reach  his  destination  at  the  railway  terminus  at 
Eivi^re  du  Loup.  Thence  to  Point  Levi,  opposite  Quebec, 
it  is  114  miles  through  the  Catholic  country  of  the  pious 
habitans.  Here  every  parish  has  its  chapel,  and  every 
chapel  its  patron  saint.  And  there  are  saints  enough  to 
exhaust  the  calendar.  Of  twenty-five  stations  on  the  rail- 
road, seventeen  are  designated  by  the  names  of  saints.    The 


BAIE   DES   CHALEURS.  159 

people  are  a  pastoral  people,  identical  with,  those  of  Mada- 
waska,  and  presenting  intact  and  unadulterated  their  ancient 
customs,  dress,  and  peculiarities.  There  are  materials  here 
for  many  thousand  Evangelines ;  and  they  are  increasing  at 
the  rate  of  five  per  cent,  per  annum,  according  to  the  census 
statistics. 


THE    LOWER    ST.    LAV\^RENCE. 


^HERE  is  a  railroad  from  Montreal  to  Quebec;  but 
one  of  the  splendid  steamers  of  the  "  Richeheu " 
line,  the  finest  in  the  New  Dominion,  is  the  prefera- 
ble conyeyance — ^fare,  three  dollars.  Leaving  Mon- 
treal in  the  afternoon,  we  approach  Quebec  at  6 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  passing  within  yiew  of  the 
beautiful  Chaudiere  Falls,  round  Cape  Diamond  under 
the  frowning  citadel,  and  glide  into  a  berth  at  the  Lower 
Town.*  Here  on  the  wharf  is  a  jam  of  yehicles  of  eyery 
ancient  and  modem  pattern,  from  the  old  French  caUclie 
to  the  pretentious  metropolitan  hackney-coach.  Heteroge- 
neous drivers  thrust  their  importunate  whips  into  one's  face 
ajid  confuse  the  ear  by  a  jargon  of  bad  English,  execrable 
patoisy  and  rough  Milesian.  Groups  of  JiaMtmis  and  emi- 
grants get  mixed  up  with  the  crowd,  and  yainly  endeavor  to 

*  Quebec  has  been  dismantled !  They  say  its  ramparts  are  to  be 
thrown  down,  and  its  grim  walls  obliterated,  that  no  traces  of  the 
ancient  fortifications  may  remain.  Only  the  everlasting  cliffs  will  stand 
— the  cliffs  which  omnipotent  hands  erected,  and  which  none  but 
omnipotent  power  can  overthrow.  Ah,  well !  Now  let  us  destroy  St. 
Augustine  and  the  Castle  of  St.  Mark,  and  then  we  shall  have  wiped 
out  the  only  interesting  relics  of  the  ancient  days  which  we  of  this  new 
country  possess.  This  is  too  practical  an  age  to  permit  these  obstacles 
to  bar  the  progress  of  innovation.  Let  relic  hunters  henceforward  go 
to  the  Rhine,  to  Egypt,  and  the  Campagna  ! 


THE  LOWER   ST.  LAWRENCE.  161 

pick  their  way  through  the  strange  places.  Solicitous  priests 
in  long  black  cassocks  assist  the  bewildered  sheep.  Trucks 
trundle  furiously  up  the  gangway  plank  with  trunks.  Sol- 
diers in  undress-scarlet  elbow  through  the  mass.  And 
"blarsted"  Englishmen  in  frieze  suits  and  Scotch  caps  stand 
immovable  in  everybody's  way,  and  complacently  survey  the 
tumult  with  their  glasses.  Leaving  our  friends  to  get  into 
the  long  omnibus  of  the  St.  Louis  Hotel,  we  mount  a 
cabriolet  for  novelty's  sake,  and  touching  up  our  scrub  of  a 
pony,  rattle  off  through  two  or  three  narrow  streets  of  the 
Lower  Town.  Then  we  ascend  by  a  circuitous  road  to  the 
old  "  Prescott  Gate,"  with  its  nail-studded  oaken  doors  and 
medieval  masonry,  and  passing  its  dingy  portals,  drive  into 
the  Upper  Town — drive  past  the  "Durham  Terrace"  and 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  champaign  country  across 
the  river- below:  past  the  Catholic  Seminary  and  the  little 
public  square  with  its  fountain  and  flowers ;  and  then  along 
a  range  of  law-oflfices,  up  to  the  entrance  of  an  immense 
modern  hotel,  six  stories  high,  kept  by  the  Brothers  Kussell, 
who  are  Americans,  and  welcome  Americans  with  the  cor- 
diality of  kin  and  countrymen.  Directly  opposite  is  the 
house  where  Montgomery's  corpse  was  laid  after  his  futile, 
attempt  to  scale  the  heights.  It  is  now  used  for  a  barber- 
shop. Ten  rods  off  is  the  market-place  and  the  two  cathe- 
drals, the  club-house  and  the  convents.  In  fifteen  minutes 
one  can  see  the  whole  of  that  part  of  Quebec  included  within 
the  walls,  though  hackmen  will  contrive  to  eke  an  hour's 
drive  out  of  it  at  a  charge  of  a  pound  or  so — to  strangers. 
After  you  have  been  in  town  a  fortnight  and  begin  to  be 
known,  they  will  put  the  job  at  "  we'll  say  five  shillings." 

If  you  wish  to  angle  in  the  vicinity  or  make  a  five  weeks' 
trip  down  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  Messrs.  Eussell  will  cheer- 
fully put  you  in  the  way  of  obtaining  all  requisite  infor- 
mation, and  assist  in  selecting  your  outfit ;  for  these  gentle- 
men are  thorough  sportsmen,  and  one  of  them  (I  crave  his 
pardon)  has  the  longest  two-jointed  spliced  salmon-rod  I  ever 
11 


163  THE   LOWEE  ST.  LAWKEI^CE. 

saw !  The  salmon  that  ever  snaps  that  rod  deserves  to  be 
drawn,  split,  quartered,  sliced,  and  buttered,  and  his  remains 
served  up  at  the  St.  Louis  Hotel  to  a  table  of  famished  sports- 
men as  a  warning  to  all  salmon  for  generations  to  come. 

"Within  a  few  hours'  drive  of  the  city  are  numerous  beau- 
tiful lakes — Lake  Beauport,  St.  Charles,  St.  Joseph,  Lac  a 
la  Truite,  Lac  Blanc,  Lac  Vincent,  and  a  dozen  others, 
which  the  guide-books  say  abound  in  trout.  In  Lake  Beau- 
port  I  once  caught  three  after  a  couple  of  hours  persistent 
fishing ;  but  then  the  water  was  smooth  as  a  mirror,  and  the 
rower  a  blunderhead  boy  who  frightened  all  the  fish.  In  other 
lakes  I  have  had  little  better  success.  Still  there  are  trout 
in  them,  and  withal  they  are  very  pleasant  places  of  summer 
resort,  where  one  may  find  abundant  refreshment  for  man 
and  beast,  and  drink  champagne  or  ale  under  the  shade  of 
spreading  trees. 

The  salmon  river  nearest  Quebec  of  any  importance  is  the 
Jacques  Cartier,  once  famous  for  the  number  of  its  fish,  but 
now  somewhat  depleted.  Its  waters,  however,  abound  in  mag- 
nificent trout.  A  drive  of  twenty-five  ipiles  from  town  will 
carry  you  beyond  the  settlements  and  set  you  down  beside 
its  banks  about  forty  miles  above  its  mouth.  Here  we  have 
a  birch-canoe  of  our  own.  Taking  with  us  a  well-tried  voy- 
ageur  we  will  complete  our  outfit  and  enjoy  a  few  days 
cruise  up  and  down  the  river.  In  a  hamper  that  holds  two 
bushels  or  more,  we  place  our  provisions,  utensils  and  camp- 
stuff,  and,  loading  the  canoe,  launch  forth  upon  the  tide. 
"We  smatter  some  French,  and  Pierre  bad  English.  There  is 
an  old  camp  a  few  miles  up  stream  with  excellent  trout-fishing 
in  the  vicinity.  "We  propose  to  pass  a  couple  of  nights 
there,  and  then  go  down  the  river  for  salmon. 

"Pierre?'' 

"  Messieu." 

"  Jusqu'on  a  le  camp  a  haut  ?" 

"  !N"o  understand." 

"  I  say,  how  fiar— 0  pshaw !— quelle  distance  a  le  camp  ?" 


THE  LOWER   ST.  LAWREIS^CE.  163 

"  Me  tink  about  four  mile  mebby." 

"  Comme  longtemps  pensez  vous,  a  fairs  le  voyage  ?" 

"Comment?" 

"  No  comprenez  ?  " 

"Non,  Monsieur." 

"Pshaw!  these  Frenchmen  can't  speak  their  own  lan- 
guage. You  see  they  only  speak  a  sort  of  patois.  Let  me 
see:  Combien  de  temps — that's  it — how  long — a  faire  le 
voyage  ?    How  much  time — go  up — eh  ?" 

"  Oh,  two  hour,  I  suppose." 

"Ah  well,  then  we  shall  have  time  to  stop  and  catch  a  few 
fish  for  supper.  This  looks  like  a  good  place.  I  say,  Pierre, 
bon  place  a  peche,  ici  ? — a  prendre  poisson  ?  " 

"  Oui— poisson — good  place — catch  fish." 

"Then  let's  hold  on — Arret — la!  voila  le  roche — 1' autre 
cote — there — tenez." 

Pierre  holds  the  canoe  in  mid-stream  and  we  cast  our  flies 
in  the  eddies  and  around  the  rocks  with  gratifying  results. 
The  fish  are  voracious  and  bite  freely.  Soon  we  have  a 
dozen.  Then  the  biting  begins  to  slacken,  and  it  is  evident 
the  fish  have  been  all  taken,  or  have  become  wary. 

"Pierre!  eh  bien!  montez — no — go  down  stream — go — 
confound  it — comment  I'appelez — descendezP 

"  Oui,  Monsieur — all  right." 

"  Look  out  there — prenez  garde !  plague  take  it— sacre — 
you've  crossed  my  line.  I  say,  Pierre,  clear  that  line,  will 
you  ?  tirez-vous  mon  ligne,  s'il  vous  plait — there — ton. 
We'll  try  it  here  awhile." 

The  Jacques  Oartier  is  not  a  very  violent  stream,  though 
it  is  broken  by  frequent  rough  water  and  an  occasional 
strong  rapid ;  and  sometimes  it  widens  into  little  bays  where 
there  are  good  pools.  By  the  time  we  reach  the  camp  it  is 
near  sunset,  and  our  string  of  trout  has  increased  to  several 
dozen.  Here  there  is  a  winter  shanty  made  of  birch  bark, 
which  has  been  occupied  by  beaver  trappers,  we  know ;  for 
there  are  several  frames  near  by  which  they  used  for  stretch- 


164  THE  LOWER   ST.   LAWRENCE. 

ing  their  pelts  on.  It  is  located  on  a  knoll,  just  at  the  edge  of 
the  forest,  with  an  open  grassy  space  in  front  and  a  path 
leading  to  the  river's  edge.*  In  the  foreground  is  a  point  of 
land  made  by  a  brook  flowing  in.  As  soon  as  a  landing  is 
effected,  Pierre  makes  a  "  smudge"  to  keep  off  the  black 
flies,  and  then  goes  for  wood  and  hemlock  boughs.  He 
gathers  enough  wood  to  last  all  night,  and  places  the  boughs 
in  rows  on  the  floor  of  the  shanty,  coyering  the  buts  of  the 
first  row  with  the  soft  branches  of  the  second,  and  the 
second  row  with  the  third,  and  so  on,  in  order  that  the  sharp 
ends  may  not  hurt  us  when  we  lie  down.  Then  he  cuts  two 
logs  of  dry  spruce  about  eight  feet  long,  and  placing  them 
side  by  side  three  feet  apart,  with  skids  underneath,  so  as  to 
make  a  draft,  fills  the  space  between  them  with  proper  fuel, 
and  lights  the  fire.  Meanwhile  crotches  have  been  cut  and 
set  in  the  ground  and  the  kettle  filled  with  water,  which  we 
now  sling  upon  a  pole  over  the  fire.  The  fish  are  next 
dressed,  and  with  a  few  shoes  of  pork  are  laid  in  the  frying- 
pan  ;  the  tea  is  emptied  into  the  now  boiling  water,  the  bread 
and  butter  and  sugar  come  forth,  and  when  the  repast  is  pre- 
pared, we  fall  to  with  a  will,  quite  ready  to^retire  to  rest  as 
soon  as  the  dishes  are  rinsed  and  wiped.  Nothing  makes 
sleep  so  refreshing  as  the  fatigues  of  a  sportsman's  daily 
routine.  He  goes  to  bed  at  dusk  and  rises  with  the  first 
break  of  day.  In  midsummer  the  first  portion  of  the  night 
is  often  sweltering  hot.  By  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the 
air  becomes  chilled  and  the  dew  falls  heavily,  rendering  a 
fire  not  only  extremely  comfortable,  but  absolutely  necessary. 
Now  it  happens  that  Pierre,  who  lies  near  the  fire  in  the 
open  air,  has  slept  too  soundly  and  let  the  fire  go  out ;  and 
we  inside  the  hut,  having  thrown  off  our  blankets  in  the 
early  part  of  the  night,  wake  up  at  three  o'clock  benumbed 
and  shivering.  Our  limbs  are  so  stiff  that  we  can  scarcely 
move.  All  is  darkness,  within  and  without.  'No  cheerful 
flicker  sheds  forth  its  light  and  warmth.  The  Frenchman  is 
snoring  vigorously. 


THE  LOWER  ST.  LAWRENCE.  165 

"  Halloa  there,  you  Frenchman !  Reveillez  yous.  Pour- 
quoi  permittez  vous  le  feu  sortir?  Wake  up  there,  and 
make  a  fire !    This  is  not  the  thing  at  all." 

"Ah!  sacre  mon  Dieu!  pardon,  gentlemen.  Le  feu  il  a 
mort!  I  shall  make  one  leetle  blaze  tout  de  suite.  C'est 
vrai,  it  ees  not  de  ting." 

While  the  Frenchman  replenishes  the  fire,  one  shivering 
comrade  shuffles  down  to  the  river  for  water,  and  the  other 
succeeds  in  finding  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  the  sugar.  With 
those  ingredients,  when  the  water  has  come  to  a  boil,  a 
revivifying  draught  is  concocted.  The  aching  limbs  are 
limbered  out  by  the  now  glowing  flames.  Pipes  are  filled 
and  smoked,  half  drowsing,  while  the  shadows  dance  alfresco 
upon  the  forest  background.  Yet  the  night  is  so  cold,  that 
when  we  withdraw  again  to  the  shelter  of  the  camp,  we 
venture  to  build  a  fire  inside,  Indian  fashion ;  for  the  hut  is 
large.  Then,  once  more  we  compose  ourselves,  and  sweet 
sleep  quickly  brings  oblivion.  Doubtless  the  increasing  heat 
of  the  apartment  and  the  warmth-diffusing  liquor  combine  to 
make  that  slumber  intensely  sound.  Certain,  it  is  not  until  a 
crackling  noise  and  stifling  sensation  arouse  us,  that  we  wake 
to  find  the  shanty  all  aflame,  and  its  birch-bark  cover  curl- 
ing and  shriveling  in  the  heat  and  smoke !  With  a  quick- 
ness in  emergency  w^hich  experience  begets,  we  seize  the 
poles  of  the  hut  and  by  main  force  pull  the  framework  to 
pieces,  and  drag  the  burning  mass  asunder,  yet  not  in  time 
to  save  the  entire  contents.  Only  a  portion  of  our  effects 
are  saved.    But,  for  these  and  our  lives  we  are  grateful. 

Such  was  one  little  episode  of  our  trip  to  the  Jacques 
Cartier. 

Hastily  dispatching  breakfast,  we  morahzed  upon  the 
vicissitudes  of  forest-life,  and  regarding  with  some  feelings 
of  loneliness  our  now  desolate  camp-ground,  we  turned  our 
backs  upon  the  smouldering  ruins  and  quickly  paddled  down 
the  river. 


166  THE   LOWER   ST.  LAWREJ^CE. 

When  we  returned  to  the  St.  Louis  Hotel,  after  a  week's 
absence,  we  carried  home  the  hamper  filled  with  large  and 
luscious  trout. 

From  Quebec  to  the  Saguenay  there  are  few  salmon  rivers 
worth  mentioning.  At  Murray  Bay,  78  miles  from  Quebec, 
and  at  Cacouna,  110  miles,  both  of  them  fashionable  summer 
resorts  for  the  Canadian  elite,  a  few  salmon  are  caught,  and 
the  trout-fishing  is  pretty  good.  Thus  far,  the  southern 
shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  is  lined  by  the  little  farms  and 
cottages  of  the  Tiabitans ;  the  northern  shore,  after  leaving 
the  vicinity  of  Quebec,  is  rocky,  desolate,  and  dotted  at  in- 
tervals by  fishing-stations  and  hamlets.  The  river  is  inter- 
spersed with  islands  of  various  sizes.  From  the  Saguenay 
to  Belle  Isle  Strait  in  the  Labrador  division,  no  less  than 
sixty  salmon  rivers  empty  into  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  dis- 
tance is  six  hundred  miles.  The  whole  coast  is  rock- 
bound,  in  many  parts  walled  by  precipitous  cliffs  several 
hundred  feet  high,  over  which  cascades  tumble  from  the 
plateaus  above.  At  intervals  the  hill-ranges  recede  from 
the  shore,  or  wide  gaps  open  into  the  granite ;  and  through 
these  the  salmon  rivers  flow  with  a  volume  vast  and  deep 
like  the  Moisie,  or  with  rapid  and  dashing  current  like 
the  impetuous  St.  John  and  Natashquan.  There  is  a  little 
steamboat  belonging  to  the  Molsons,  of  Montreal,  which  runs 
once  a  week  from  Quebec  to  their  iron-works  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Moisie,  364  miles.  The  iron  is  manufactured  from 
black  magnetic  sand,  which  is  found  along  shore  in  vast  de- 
posits. If  one  can  get  passage  by  favor  in  this  steamer,  it  is 
easy  to  visit  any  of  the  intermediate  salmon  rivers.  The 
only  means  of  access  to  other  parts  of  the  Lower  St.  Law- 
rence and  the  Labrador  is  by  private  vessel,  or  by  passage  on 
some  fishing  craft,  with  an  uncertain  chance  of  return. 
Small  vessels  or  schooners  can  be  chartered  at  Quebec,  with 
crews  and  pilots  who  are  familiar  with  the  coast.  The 
warmest  kind  of  clothing  should  be  taken  in  abundance,  for 
though  in  midsummer  the  noonday  heat  is  sometimes  in- 


THE   LOWER  ST.   LAWRENCE.  167 

tense,  yet  the  nights  are  always  cold,  penetrating  fogs  en- 
velop for  days  together,  and  sudden  extreme  changes  of  tem- 
perature occur. 

Herewith  is  appended  a  list  of  all  the  fair  salmon  rivers  on 
the  St.  Lawrence,  below  the  Saguenay  River,  with  the  dis- 
tances from  Quebec  of  the  principal  ones.  Those  designated 
in  small  capitals  are  superior  for  rod-fishing : 

SOUTH   SHORE   OF   ST.   LAWRENCE. 

Rimoushi — Sylvain,  lessee ;  average  size  of  fish,  13  lbs. 

Grand  Metis. 

Matane, 

Ste.  Anne  des  Monts — Angled  in  1871  for  the  first  time, 
with  fair  success. 

Mont  Louis. 

Madeleine. 

Dartmouth — Assigned  to  transient  rods.  Permits  to  fish 
$1.75,  to  be  obtained  from  Joseph  Eden,  overseer. 

York — Thos.  Reynolds,  of  Quebec,  lessee ;  average  weight 
of  fish  in  1870,  31  lbs. ;  in  1871,  21  lbs. 

St.  John  du  Sud — Fred.  Curtis,  of  Boston,  lessee. 

Grand — W.  F.  Gierke,  New  York,  lessee. 

Grand  Pahos. 

NORTH   SHORE   OF   ST.   LAWRENCE. 

The  Bergeronnes — Two  rivers,  leased  to  Browning  and 
Blood,  of  Montreal,  for  use  of  guests  of  Tadousac  Hotel ;  132 
miles  from  Quebec. 

Escoumain. 

Portneuf — 146  miles  from  Quebec. 

Bersamis. 

La  Val— Hon.  D.  Price,  of  Quebec,  lessee ;  180  miles 
from  Quebec. 

Blanche,     \ 

Plover,       y  Indifferent  streams. 

ColumUa,  ) 


168  THE  LOWER  ST.  LAWRENCE. 

Betsiamite. 

Outarde. 

Manicouagan — Has  high  falls  three  miles  from  its  mouth ; 
220  miles  from  Quebec. 

Mistassini — Falls  120  feet  high,  nine  miles  from  its 
mouth. 

GoDBOUT — Gilmore  and  Law,  of  Quebec,  lessees ;  average 
weight  of  fish,  12  lbs. 

Trinity — 27^  miles  from  Quebec. 

Little  Trinity. 

Calumet. 

St.  Margaret — 340  miles  from  Quebec. 

MoisiE — Ogilvie,  of  Montreal,  and  Brown  and  Turner, 
of  Hamilton,  lessees ;  average  weight  of  fish,  18  lbs. ;  364 
miles  from  Quebec. 

Trout  River. 

Sheldrake. 

Magpie. 

St.  John  du  Nord — Boundary  line  between  Canada  and 
Labrador ;  average  weight  of  fish,  12  lbs. ;  454  miles  from 
Quebec. 

MiNGAN — Leased  by  a  director  of  Grand  Trunk  Kail  way ; 
465  miles  from  Quebec. 

Bomaine — Mr.  Lord,  U.  S.,  lessee. 

Watsheeshoo, 

Pashashehoo. 

Nahesipi. 

Agwanus. 

Grand  Natashquan— Not  leased;  202  salmon  killed 
on  four  rods  in  seven  days,  in  1872 ;  571  miles  from  Quebec. 

Kegashha — Falls  near  mouth. 

MUSQUARRO. 

Napitippi. 
Washecootai. 
Olomanosheebo. 
Coacoaco. 


the  lower  st.  lawrence.  169 

Etamanu. 
Netagamu. 

MECATTIiq^A. 

Ha  Ha, 

St.  Augustine. 

Esquimaux — 720  miles  from  Quebec. 

Leases  are  generally  executed  for  nine  years.  They  may 
be  drawn  so  as  to  include  the  estuaries  for  netting,  or  merely 
to  cover  the  privilege  of  rod-fishing.  Some  of  the  scores 
made  by  rod-fishermen  are  very  handsome.  Last  year, 
Messrs.  Havemeyer,  Harriott,  and  three  friends  of  New  York 
City,  killed  148  salmon  in  the  St.  John  {Du  Nord),  between 
the  18th  day  of  June  and  the  13th  July.  Four  Canadian 
officials,  comprising  the  Governor-General  and  party,  killed 
202  salmon  in  seven  days  in  the  Grand  Natashquan.  The 
lessees  of  the  Moisie  killed  325  fish  in  two  weeks ;  average 
weight,  18  lbs.  In  the  Godbout,  509  fish  were  killed  between 
June  15th  and  July  15th.  As  there  are  two  or  three  in- 
different anglers  in  every  party,  the  "heft"  of  the  score 
should  be  credited  as  a  rule  to  two  rods,  when  the  party 
comprises  four  or  five  persons. 


THE     SAGUENAY. 


^ROM  Quebec  to  the  Saguenay  the  distance  is  one 
J][  hundred  and  thirty  miles.  Opposite  the  mouth  of 
this  gloomy  river  is  a  sand-bar,  and  here  a  vessel 
may  ride  at  anchor  in  shallow  water.  But  let  her 
move  but  a  dozen  rods  up  stream,  and  she  will  find 
no  bottom!  Soundings  show  a  depth  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  fathoms.  The  line  of  this  mighty  submarine 
precipice  is  as  distinctly  defined  where  the  inky  waters 
that  flow  out  of  the  river  join  the  St.  Lawrence,  as  the  blue 
Gulf  Stream  is  defined  in  the  milky  waters  of  the  ocean  main. 
Yet  further  up  the  river,  the  depth  is  a  thousand  feet,  and 
where  Capes  Trinity  and  Eternity  drop  their  stupendous 
(?rags  perpendicularly  into  the  Stygian  waves,  it  has  been 
fathomed  almost  a  mile  without  reaching  bottom  !  And  all 
this  immensity  of  water  rolls  out  with  a  volume  and  tide 
whose  influence  should  be  seriously  and  disastrously  felt. 
Yet  its  effect  is  not  as  perceptible  as  the  tides  that  ebb  in  the 
Bay  of  Fundy.  Where  then  is  the  vast  receptable  of  this 
overwhelming  discharge  ?  Where  the  outlet  into  the  ocean  ? 
It  is  said,  and  with  palpable  verification,  that  the  waters  of 
Montmorenci  Falls  find  their  way  into  the  body  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  River  by  a  subaqueous  and  subterranean  outlet. 
Then,  surely,  the  volume  of  the  Saguenay  must  discharge 
itself  through  some  similar  passage  into  the  Gulf.     And  who 


THE   SAGUEN^AY.  171 

shall  say  that  the  mysterious  eddies  and  currents  that  environ 
and  constantly  beset  the  Island  of  Anticosti  and  make  its 
circumnavigation  as  dangerous  as  Scylla  and  Oharibdis,  are 
not  occasioned  by  this  unseen  agent  ? 

Three  centuries  ago  Jacques  Oartier,  the  bold  investigator, 
sent  a  boat's  crew  to  explore  the  penetralia  of  this  mighty 
chasm,  and  they  were  never  heard  of  afterward.  What  won- 
der then  that  for  subsequent  decades  of  years  it  should  have 
been  invested  with  a  weird  and  supernatural  character  ? 
that  t|iles  should  have  been  believed  of  its  unnavigable  cur- 
rent, immeasurable  depths,  terrible  hurricanes,  dangerous 
rocks  and  destructive  whirlpools?  Even  to-day  it  is  not 
without  some  feeling  of  awe  that  sailors  pass  within  the  iron- 
bound  naked  headlands  that  guard  its  savage  portals.  Mists 
continually  envelop  it  and  fill  its  Titanic  gorges.  Winds, 
keen  as  November  blasts,  whirl  through  its  channel  walls,  at 
times,  in  midsummer.  Whales  and  porpoises  disport  in  its 
inky  waves,  and  seals  innumerable  play  upon  its  surface.  A 
description  by  a  London  Times  correspondent  who  accom- 
panied the  Prince  of  Wales  to  this  river  on  the  occasion  of 
his  visit  to  America,  is  the  most  graphic  ever  printed,  and 
though  often  read,  will  bear  insertion  here.    He  writes : 

"Gloomy  black  clouds  rested  on  the  mountains,  and 
seemed  to  double  their  height,  pouring  over  the  rugged 
cliffs  in  a  stream  of  mist  till,  lifting  suddenly  with  the  hoarse 
gusts  of  wind,  they  allowed  short  glimpses  into  what  may 
almost  be  called  the  terrors  of  the  Saguenay  scenery.  It  is 
on  such  a  day,  above  all  others,  that  the  savagQ  wildness  and 
gloom  of  this  extraordinary  river  is  seen  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage. Sunlight  and  clear  sky  are  out  of  place  over  its 
black  waters.  Anything  which  recalls  the  life  and  smile  of 
nature  is  not  in  unison  with  the  huge  naked  cliffs,  raw,  cold, 
and  silent  as  the  tombs.  An  Italian  spring  could  effect  no 
change  in  the  deadly,  rugged  aspect ;  nor  does  winter  add 
one  iota  to  its  mournful  desolation.  It  is  with  a  sense  of 
relief  that  the  tourist  emerges  from  its  sullen  gloom,  and  looks 


172  THE   SAGUE]S"AY. 

back  upon  it  as  a  kind  of  vault — nature's  sarcophagus,  where 
life  or  sound  seems  never  to  have  entered.  Compared  to  it 
the  Dead  Sea  is  blooming,  and  the  wildest  ravines  look  cosy 
and  smiling.  It  is  wild  without  the  least  variety,  and  grand 
apparently  in  spite  of  itself ;  while  so  utter  is  the  solitude,  so 
dreary  and  monotonous  the  frown  of  its  great  black  walls  of 
rock,  that  the  tourist  is  sure  to  get  impatient  with  its  sullen 
dead  reverse,  till  he  feels  almost  an  antipathy  to  its  very 
name.  The  Saguenay  seems  to  want  painting,  blowing  up, 
or  draining — anything,  in  short,  to  alter  its  morose,  eternal, 
quiet  awe.  Talk  of  Lethe  or  the  Styx,  they  must  have  been 
purling  brooks  compared  with  this  savage  river,  and  a  pic- 
nic on  the  banks  of  either  would  be  preferable  to  one  on  the 
Saguenay. 

"  The  wild  scenery  of  the  river  culminates  at  a  little  inlet 
on  the  right  bank  between  Capes  Trinity  and  Eternity. 
Than  these  two  dreadful  headlands  nothing  can  be  imagined 
more  grand  or  impressive.  For  one  brief  moment  the  rugged 
character  of  the  river  is  partly  softened,  and  looking  back 
into  the  deep  valley  between  the  capes,  the  land  has  an 
aspect  of  life  and  mild  luxuriance  which,  though  not  rich, 
at  least  seems  so  in  comparison  with  the  grievous  awful  bar- 
renness. Cape  Trinity  on  this  side  towards  the  landward 
opening  is  pretty  thickly  clothed  with  fir  and  birch  mingled 
together  in  a  color  contrast  which  is  beautiful  enough, 
especially  where  the  rocks  show  out  among  them,  with  their 
little  cascades  and  waterfalls  like  strips  of  silver  shining  in 
the  sun.  But  Cape  Eternity  well  becomes  its  name,  and  is 
the  reverse  of  all  this.  It  seems  to  frown  in  gloomy  indigna- 
tion on  its  brother  cape  for  the  weakness  it  betrays  in  allow- 
ing anything  like  life  or  verdure  to  shield  its  wild,  uncouth 
deformity  of  strength.  Cape  Eternity  certainly  shows  no 
sign  of  relaxing  in  this  respect  from  its  deep  savage  grand- 
eur. It  is  one  tremendous  cliff  of  limestone,  more  than 
1500  feet  high,  and  inclining  forward  more  than  two  hundred 
feet,  brow-beating  all  beneath  it,  and  seeming  as  if  at  any 


THE   SAGUEKAY.  173 

moment  it  would  fall  and  overwlielm  the  deep  black  stream 
which  flows  so  cold,  so  deep  and  motionless  down  below. 
High  np,  on  its  rough  gray  brows,  a  few  stunted  pines  show 
like  bristles  their  scathed  white  arms,  giving  an  awful  weird 
aspect  to  the  mass,  blanched  here  and  there  by  the  tempests 
of  ages,  stained  and  discolored  by  little  waterfalls  in  blotchy 
and  decaying  spots.  Unlike  Niagara,  and  all  other  of  God's 
great  works  in  nature,  one  does  not  wish  for  silence  or  soli- 
tude here.  Companionship  becomes  doubly  necessary  in  an 
awful  solitude  like  this,  and  though  you  involuntarily  talk 
in  subdued  tones,  still  talk  you  must,  if  only  to  relieve  your 
mind  of  the  feeling  of  loneliness  and  desolation  which  seems  to 
weigh  on  all  who  venture  up  this  stern,  grim,  watery  chasm. 

"The  'Flying  Fish'  passed  under  this  cape  with  her 
yards  almost  touching  the  rock,  though  with  more  than  a 
thousand  feet  of  water  under  her.  In  a  minute  after,  one  of 
the  largest  68-pounders  was  cast  loose  and  trained  aft  to  face 
the  cliff.  From  under  its  overhanging  mass  the  'Flying 
Fish'  was  moved  with  care  lest  any  loose  crag  should  be 
sufficiently  disturbed  by  the  concussion  to  come  down  bodily 
upon  her  decks.  A  safe  distance  thus  gained,  the  gun  was 
fired !  For  the  space  of  half  a  minute  or  so  after  the  dis- 
charge there  was '  a  dead  silence,  and  then,  as  if  the  report 
and  concussion  were  hurled  back  upon  the  decks,  the  echoes 
came  down  crash  upon  crash.  It  seemed  as  if  the  rocks  and 
crags  had  all  sprung  into  life  under  the  tremendous  din,  and 
as  if  each  was  firing  68-pounders  full  upon  us,  in  sharp, 
crushing  volleys,  till  at  last  they  grew  hoarser  and  hoarser  in 
their  anger,  and  retreated  bellowing  slowly,  carrying  the  tale 
of  invaded  solitude  from  hill  to  hill,  till  all  the  distant  moun- 
tains seemed  to  roar  and  groan  at  the  intrusion. 

"  A  few  miles  further  on  is  Statue  Point,  where,  at  about 
1000  feet  above  the  water,  a  huge,  rough,  Gothic  arch  gives 
entrance  to  a  cave  in  which,  as  yet,  the  foot  of  man  has  never 
trodden.  Before  the  entrance  to  this  black  aperture  a  gigantic 
rock,  Hke  the  statue  of  some  dead  Titan,  once  stood.    A  few 

% 


174  THE  SAGUEN^AY. 

years  ago,  during  the  winter,  it  gaye  way,  and  the  monstrous 
figure  came  crashing  down  through  the  ice  of  the  Saguenay, 
and  left  bare  to  yiew  the  entrance  to  the  cayem  it  had 
guarded  perhaps  for  ages.  Beyond  this  again,  is  the  Tableau 
Eock,  a  sheet  of  dark-colored  limestone,  some  600  feet  high 
by  300  wide,  as  straight  and  almost  as  smooth  as  a  mirror ! " 

The  steamers  "Magnet"  and  "Union"  leaye  Quebec 
four  times  a  week,  touching  at  th^  summer  resorts  of 
Murray  Bay  and  Cacouna,  and  are  timed  to  ascend  and  de- 
cend  the  Saguenay  by  daylight.  At  the  entrance  of  the 
riyer  are  the  little  villages  of  Tadousac  and  L'Anse  k  L'Eau. 
The  latter  is  a  steamboat  landing.  Tadousac  is  most  roman- 
tically situated  among  the  hills,  with  a  little  trout  brook  tum- 
bling through  a  rayine  on  the  outskirts.  Eecently  a  large 
and  fashionable  hotel  has  been  erected  by  some  Montreal 
gentlemen,  and  is  well  filled  during  the  two  hottest  months 
of  summer.  It  stands  on  the  site  of  the  old  Hudson's  Bay 
Company's  Station,  which  occupied  here  for  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years.  Upon  a  gently  sloping  lawn  between  its  piazza 
and  the  bay,  the  old  buildings  still  stand,  with  the  veritable 
flag-staff  and  iron  four-pounder  guns  which  did  duty  under 
the  old  regime.  Here  also  is  the  ancient  chapel  of  Father 
Marquette,  said  to  be  one  of  the  oldest  in  Canada,  with  its 
quaint  architecture,  and  its  curious  paintings,  and  interior 
appointments.  Upon  the  crest  of  a  precipitous  alluvial 
terrace  near  at  hand  are  the  modern  summer  residences  of 
several  gentlemen  of  Canada  and  the  United  States,  of  whom 
Eobert  H.  Powell,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia,  was  the  pioneer. 
All  along  shore,  near  Tadousac,  sea- trout  are  caught  in  great 
abundance. 

Fifteen  miles  up  the  Saguenay  is  the  Eiver  Ste.  Mar- 
guerite with  its  two  branches,  leased  by  David  Price,  of 
Quebec,  and  Mr.  Powell.  Some  distance  above,  is  the  Little 
Saguenay,  and  at  a  distance  of  twenty-seven  miles  the  St. 
John  flows  into  a  bay,  two  miles  long  by  three  wide,  enclosed 
by  mountains.    At  both  these  rivers  are  lumber-mills  and 


THE  SAGUENAY.  175 

fishing-stations.  Other  salmon  rivers  are  the  Eternity  river, 
the  Descente  des  Femmes,  the  Ha  Ha,  and  the  A  Mars. 
The  latter  is  the  best-stocked  river  in  the  Saguenay  district. 
The  fish  have  multiplied  wonderfully  within  the  last  three 
years.  All  along  the  river  numerous  cascades  tumble  over 
the  perpendicular  clifis,  flowing  from  lakes  and  ponds  on  their 
inaccessible  summits.  In  the  vicinity  of  these  rivers,  near 
the  middle  of  the  Saguenay,  is  St.  Louis  Island,  with  pre- 
cipitous sides  that  descend  abruptly  to  the  depth  of  1200  feet. 
Here  great  quantities  of  the  finest  salmon-trout  are  caught. 
Passing  up  stream  the  scenery  is  somewhat  diversified  by  an 
occasional  island  or  a  sweeping  bend  in  the  river.  Still  there  is  a 
sense  of  all-pervading  gloom,  and  with  the  exceptions  noted,  no 
trace  of  civilization,  and  scarcely  any  of  vegetation,  can  be  seen. 

When  the  steamer  reaches  Cape  Eternity,  it  invariably 
runs  close  under  the  shadow  of  the  tremendous  cliff;  steam 
is  shut  off  and  an  opportunity  is  given  the  passengers  to  in- 
dulge in  sensations  of  awe  and  outbursts  of  sentiment. 
When  all  have  gazed  aloft  at  the  impending  crags  and  suf- 
ficiently shuddered,  a  whistle  is  blown  or  a  gun  fired  to  wake 
the  echoes,  and  the  steamer  continues  her  voyage.  Once 
only  in  the  course  of  four  several  trips  up  the  river,  have  I 
known  the  spell  of  sublimity  to  be  broken  by  any  sacri- 
legious attempt  at  the  ridiculous.  All  hands  were  gathered 
on  the  forward  deck,  and  breathless.  All  was  still  as  the 
grave.  Not  even  a  whisper  was  heard  for  the  moment,  when 
commotion  was  suddenly  excited  by  a  voice  which  said  in 
accents  firm  and  deliberately  uttered,  "  What  a  splendid  rock 
to  advertise  Plantation  Bitters ! " 

Sixty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay  the  gloomy 
cliffs  recede,  the  river  expands  into  a  magnificent  bay,  and  to 
the  northwest,  thirty  miles  distant,  the  blue  outlines  of  the 
St.  Margaret  mountain  range  are  seen.  This  range  com- 
mences at  Lake  St.  John,  and  extends  through  Labrador  to 
Hudson's  Bay.  Its  highest  peaks  are  estimated  to  be  three 
thousand  feet  above  the  waters  of  Lake  St.  John.    Ha  Ha 


176  THE  SAGUEIS^AY. 

Bay  is  the  terminus  of  the  steamboat  route.  Here  two  little 
villages,  Bagot  and  Bagotyille,  each  with  its  chapel-spire, 
cluster  upon  the  undulating  shores.  They  are  about  three 
miles  apart,  and  are  located  each  upon  a  river  which  fur- 
nishes water-power  for  saw-mills  belonging  to  the  Prices,  of 
Quebec,  gentlemen  who  are  said  to  own  no  less  than  thirty- 
six  lumber  establishments  upon  the  Saguenay,  St.  Lawrence, 
and  other  rivers  of  Canada.  At  one  of  these  villages  a  long 
pier  juts  out,  and  here  the  steamer  lands  her  passengers  for 
a  two-hours'  frolic  on  shore.  Around  the  bend  of  the  bay 
there  is  a  very  fair  drive  of  three  miles  between  the  two  vil- 
lages, and  it  is  considered  "  quite  the  correct  thing  "  to  char- 
ter one  of  the  many  French  caleches  which  cluster  on  the 
pier,  and  scurry  off  at  a  rattling  pace.  Occasionally  parties  of 
ladies  and  gentlemen  stop  by  the  wayside  to  taste  the  native 
red  wine  at  a  primitive  Acadian  inn,  where,  as  advertised 
in  black  and  gamboge  letters,  they  sell  "  UquPMrs  en  detaW 
It  is  quite  interesting  to  notice  how  gracefully  they  patronize 
the  modest  maitre  d'hotel,  and  how  they  smirk,  and  titter, 
and  blush  at  the  seeming  little  breach  of  propriety,  just  as 
"quality  folks"  used  to  do  when  they  first  ventured  into  Ful- 
ton Market  for  bivalves  such  as  they  could  get  nowhere  else. 
And  these  unsophisticated  Acadians  are  not  so  simple  as  not 
to  know  on  "  w^hich  side  their  bread  is  buttered."  Four 
steamers  a  week  during  two  months  of  summer,  crowded 
with  passengers  whose  purses  are  plethoric  with  money,  and 
whose  business  is  pleasure,  afford  an  opportunity  not  to  be 
innocently  thrown  aside.  Hence,  all  the  young  men  of  the 
village  not  employed  in  ofi&ces  equally  remunerative,  borrow 
money  enough  to  pay  for  a  five-pound  horse  and  wagon,  and 
become  extemporized  cab-drivers.  And  that  improvised 
Jehu  who  cannot  clear  the  price  of  his  outfit,  with  a  margin 
sufficient  to  pay  for  his  annual  church  dues,  his  marriage 
fees  to  the  priest,  and  the  pension  of  himself  and  "  femme  " 
till  next  season,  is  no  business-man  at  all. 
The  hyperborean  hack-drivers  of  Ha  Ha  Bay  do  not  im- 


THE  sague:n^ay.  177 

portiine  fares ;  intelligible  words  are  wanting  to  express  their 
inducements  and  demands.  But,  blocking  up  tbe  pier  with 
a  jam  of  mute  appeals  as  practically  effective  as  a  Broadway 
blockade,  they  have  no  difficulty  in  securing  a  load.  Then 
the  Frenchman  finds  ready  use  for  his  native  politeness, 
which  he  exercises  in  holding  the  horse  while  the  ladies 
tumble  over  the  thills  and  dashboard  into  the  vehicle.  They 
haven't  an  instant  to  contemplate  the  novelty  of  the  situa- 
tion, or  calculate  the  strength  of  the  caleche  or  the  chances 
of  the  road ;  nay,  not  even  to  give  a  little  preliminary  shriek 
of  apprehension ;  for,  quick  as  a  monkey,  the  driver  has 
sprung  to  his  seat  on  the  edge  of  the  dashboard,  and  is  off 
like  a  shot,  with  the  pony's  tail  in  his  lap !  He  hasn't  time 
even  to  gather  up  the  reins  or  set  his  feet  squarely  upon  the 
whifiBle-tree  bar — "which  the  same"  is  important.  You  have 
seen  an  old-fashioned  country  chaise  go  over  a  "  thank-you- 
ma'am"?  A  "  thank-you-ma'am "  is  a  little  ridge  made 
across  the  road  to  turn  off  the  rain-fall.  "Well,  the  springs 
of  the  caleche  are  stiff,  and  the  uniformtty  of  the  Ha  Ha 
road  is  interrupted  by  occasional  stones,  ridges,  and  little 
gullies.  At  the  first  start  the  caliche  strikes  a  stone ;  in  a 
jiflfy  the  right  wheel  dips  into  a  rut ;  then  the  left  jumps  a 
hummock ;  then  both  together  surge  into  a  puddle.  Never- 
theless the  speed  increases,  the  jolts  multiply,  and  the  mud 
flies.  The  driver  is  used  to  it,  and  raises  himself  at  each  jerk 
on  his  wire-spring  legs  like  a  circus-rider.  But  imagine  the 
effect  behind !  At  the  very  start  the  ladies  are  jerked  out  of 
their  seats  like  skipjacks ;  the  next  instant  they  are  all  in  a 
heap  on  the  bottom,  and  helpless.  Faster  goes  the  nag !  Dex- 
ter could  hardly  beat  such  time.  It  is  useless  for  the  ladies 
to  shriek — the  driver  wouldn't  believe  there  was  anything 
serious  the  matter  until  he  saw  them  spilled  out  and  man- 
gled. He  only  turns  and  laughs  simply.  It  is  rather  an  en- 
couraging smile  he  wears,  as  if  he  thought  they  were  merely 
having  a  little  fun  of  their  own,  and  he  actually  mistakes 
their  hysterics  for  downright  jollity !  On  they  go,  passing  all 
12 


178  THE   SAGUEKAY. 

the  caliches  on  the  road,  the  ladies  hanging  on  like  grim  death 
to  the  seat,  the  dashboard,  the  driver,  and  each  other,  their 
hats  jammed  over  their  eyes,  their  frills  and  furbelows  gener- 
ally shaken  up  and  crushed,  and  their  pompadours  and  hair- 
pins scattered  along  the  road.     In  vain  do  they  plead : 

'*  Oh  driver !  please — do — stop — oh — oh — help— stop— mer- 
cy— stop — oh — I — shall — die — my — hair — my — oh ! " 

The  last  "  oh "  is  stifled  by  a  leap  over  a  gully.  Appre- 
ciating the  dilemma  at  a  glance,  we  hurry  on  after,  and  hail, 
with  m'any  a  gesture : 

"  Hold  on  there,  you  stupid  idiot !  stop,  I  say !  what  are 
you  about — don't  you  see  the  ladies  are  killed  ?  stop !  arret- 
la!" 

That  omnipotent  French  word  did  the  business ;  the  nin- 
compoop hadn't  understood  a  word  before.  "Arret-la" 
means  stop^ajid  he  did— like  the  snap  of  a  trap !  In  a  jiffy 
the  ladies  were  over  the  dashboard !  When  they  had  recov- 
ered and  found  themselves  on  terra  firma  at  last,  they  shook 
out  their  ruffled  plumage  and  exchanged  their  vehicle  for 
ours,  which  had  a  slower  horse  and  a  less  reckless  driver. 
We  were  just  in  the  spirit  of  humoring  that  Frenchman — 
we  had  ridden  hundreds  of  miles  in  caleches.  We  deter- 
mined to  take  the  starch  out  of  his  animal,  and  we  did !  we 
got  our  money's  worth !  Away  we  went  through  the  quaint 
little  settlement  like  a  streak  of  greased  lightning,  I  on  the 
back  seat,  the  Frenchman  on  the  dashboard,  sitting  sideways ; 
and  at  each  jolt  we  shot  upwards  like  a  jack-in-the-box,  first 
the  Frenchman,  then  the  passenger,  raising  ourselves  clear 
of  the  seat  by  the  spring  of  the  legs.  It  was  equal  to  Dan 
Kice's  circus.  Then  the  Frenchman  laughed,  and  the  horse 
perspired  and  reeked  ;  and  on  we  sped  with  a  swiftness  that 
made  the  passing  objects  scurry  by  like  phantasmagoria — 
party-colored  houses^urious  clay  ovens  standing  in  the 
open  air  by  themselves,  and  little  bridges  that  crossed  the 
brooks—"  une  maison,  unfour,  un  petit  pont — U7ie  maison,  un 
four,  un  petit  pontp  and  so  forth  successively,  with  a  skip,  a 


THE  SAGUENAY.  179 

jerk,  and  a  jump,  until  at  last  we  rattled  down  upon  the  pier 
amid  the  plaudits  of  admiring  cabbies  congregated  there.  We 
paid  that  man  a  Yankee  silver  half-dollar ;  it  was  all  he  asked, 
but  not  half  what  he  earned.  The  next  summer,  when  we 
happened  at  Ha  Ha  Bay  again,  that  Frenchman  knew  us — 
you  bet !    Ha !  ha ! 

Although  the  steamboat  excursion  ends  here,  the  angler's 
journey  has  only  begun.  His  field  of  adventure  is  at  the 
Chicoutimi  Falls,  thirty  miles  or  more  above,  and  his  game 
the  splendid  wininnish,  as  the  Indians  call  them — a  fish 
very  nearly  allied  to  i;he  land-locked  salmon,  though  I  notice 
slight  points  of  difference  between  the  two.  The  dorsal  fin 
of  the  wininnish  is  longer,  and  at  those  seasons  of  the  year 
when  he  visits  the  rapids,  he  carries  it  erect  and  projecting 
above  the  surface  like  a  shark's.  The  spots  on  the  wininnish 
are  irregular  quadrilaterals,  while  those  of  the  land-locked 
salmon  are  rounder ;  and  he  lacks  that  golden  lustre  which 
glows  from  the  scales  of  the  latter,  when  fresh  from  his 
element.  In  general  color  and  appearance  he  more  nearly 
resembles  the  grilse.  In  the  early  part  of.  the  season  his 
scales  are  of  the  most  lustrous  silvery-white,  and  his  back  a 
glowing  steel-color ;  but,  as  the  season  advances,  his  hue  be- 
comes dark  and  cloudy.  He  is  not  the  same  handsome  fish 
then,  by  any  means.  Both  of  these  varieties  have  a  tail  quite 
forked ;  seventeen  rays  in  the  first  dorsal  fin ;  the  generic 
adipose  second  dorsal ;  the  characteristic  lateral  line  of 
the  salmon ;  the  same  number  of  spots  on  the  gill-covers,  and 
the  same  pinkish-yellow  color  of  the  flesh.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber the  vomers,  or  the  number  of  rays  in  the  caudal-fin. 
The  wininnish  seems  more  active  than  either  the  land-locked 
salmon  or  grilse,  often  making  three  successive  leaps  with 
great  rapidity,  and  without  appearing  to  touch  the  water  ex- 
cept with  his  tail.  I  have  never  seen  grilse  do  this,  and 
their  reputation  for  activity  is  such  that  the  Indians  alwaye# 
speak  of  them  as  "jumpers." 

In  the  winter  they  are  scattered  through  the  deep  water 


180  THE   SAGUEl^AY. 

of  Lake  St.  John,  and  in  June  they  descend  to  the  series  of 
rapids  below,  to  spawn.  This  is  the  season  par  excellence, 
and  these  the  places  for  capturing  this  remarkable  game-fish. 
With  an  Abbey-fly,  or  yellow  May-fly  with  black  wings  and 
head,  the  sport  can  be  prolonged  until  the  passion  cloys,  and 
both  basket  and  satiety  cry  "  Hold,  enough ! "  The  French- 
men in  the  yicinity  "chum"  them  with  bait  cut  up  and 
thrown  where  they  most  frequent;  then  catch  them  with 
pork  or  common  bait  of  any  kind. 

Six  miles  aboye  Ha  Ha  Bay  is  the  little  village  of  Chicou- 
timi,  where  there  are  saw-mills  belonging  to  the  Hon.  Dave 
Price,  a  httle  chapel,  and  a  couple  of  small  taverns  where 
one  may  tarry  a  la  Canuch.  A  little  steam-tug  runs  up  to 
the  mills  betimes,  and  tows  ships  to  load  with  lumber.  Se- 
curing passage  by  favor,  we  arrive  at  Chicoutimi  village,  and 
obtaining  canoes,  ascend  the  river  ni^je  miles  to  the  foot  of 
the  first  or  lower  rapids,  and  then  cross.  These  rapids  ex- 
tend three  miles;  then  there  are  three  miles  of  smooth 
water ;  then  a  second  rapids  of  terrific  strength ;  then  ten 
miles  of  still  water ;  then  two  miles  of  rapids ;  then  three- 
qusirters:  of  a  mile  of  still  water.  Finally,  there  succeed  the 
mighty  rush  and  uproar  of  the  "  Grand  Discharge "  min- 
gling with  the  foam  and  tumult  of  the  "  Petit  Discharge." 
These  empty  the  waters  of  the  Great  St.  John  Lake,  and 
sweeping  around  a  rugged  island  with  terrific  and  unnatural 
force,  unite,  and  rage,  contend,  and  finally  melt  and  settle 
down  into  the  quiet  mood  of  the  still  water  below.  At  the 
head  of  the  third  rapids,  and  within  sight  of  the  "  Grand 
Discharge,"  we  shall  pitch  our  camp.  But  first  let  us  call  at 
Savard's,  six  miles  above  the  first  rapids.  There  are  an  old 
man  and  his  three  sons,  Louis,  Pierre^nd  Gustave,  all  excel- 
lent boatmen  and  assistants  in  camp.  We  can  see  the  house 
now,  perched  on  a  hill  of  curious  geological  structure.  In- 
#  deed,  from  the  moment  we  reach  the  lower  rapids,  we  are  con- 
scious of  entering  a  region  of  extraordinary  geological  marvels. 
We  tread  among  the  wrecks  and  debris  of  a  previous  creation. 


THE  SAGUENAY.  181 

AU  the  way  to  Savard's,  the  road  runs  on  the  verge  of  a  vol- 
canic ridge,  with  curious  sand-bluffs  of  undulating  outline 
thrown  up  at  intervals ;  and  the  scenery  becomes  constantly 
more  rugged,  and  the  contour  of  the  land  more  broken  with 
dry  ravines  filled  with  sand  formations,  and  with  others  con- 
stituting the  channel-ways  of  impetuous  rivers.  No  less 
than  twelve  large  streams  empty  into  this  upper  Saguenay, 
between  Ha  Ha  Bay  and  Lake  St.  John.  All  these  bear 
rich  tribute  of  lumber  to  the  booms  and  mills  below.  And 
at  Lake  St.  John  begins  the  Ste.  Marguerite  mountain 
range,  which  extends  through  Labrador  to  Hudson's  Bay. 
Throughout  its  whole  extent  it  bears  evidence  of  having 
been  once  subjected  to  fearful  convulsions,  violent  heat,  and 
volcanic  action.  According  to  the  assertion  of  intelligent 
Hudson's  Bay  Company's  officers,  the  interior  country  is  one 
vast  bed  of  granite,  syenite,  and  schist,  upheaved  in  succes- 
sive billows  of  rock,  as  though  the  entire  mass  had  been 
poured  over  the  earth  in  a  deluge  of  liquefaction,  and  sud- 
denly cooled  before  the  great  waves  had  subsided.  And 
there  are  extinct  volcanoes  which  the  Indians  say  were 
active  once ;  and  hollow  mountains  that  reverberate  with  a 
cavernous  sound  under  merely  a  heavy  footfall.  Vegetation 
in  most  parts  is  very  scant,  and  chiefly  composed  of  stunted 
spruce. 

All  through  the  country  great  bodies  of  water  are  situated 
upon  elevated  plateaus,  some  like  Lake  St.  John,  full  forty 
miles  long.  From  these,  cascades  tumble  over  lofty  preci- 
pices into  deep  chasms.  In  some  places  mountains  have 
been  uplifted ;  in  others  they  have  sunk  into  subterranean 
depths.  Great  seams  and  rifts  yawn  where  rocks  have  been 
cleft  asunder.  Detached  masses  and  fragments  of  rock  have 
been  burst  by  explosions'  and  hurled  at  random  over  land 
and  sea.  With  these  data  it  is  easy  to  account  for  the 
phenomena  of  the  Saguenay.  There  is  no  doubt  that  its 
immeasurable  channel  was  cleft  into  rock  that  was  once  a 
solid  mass ;  for  each  projecting  promontory  is  offset  by  its 


182  THE  SAGUEKAY. 

corresponding  indentation.  And  is  it  not  probable  that  the 
same  yolcanic  agency  which  reft  this  chasm,  spht  off  Anti- 
costi  and  Kewfoundland  from  the  main  continent,  upheaved 
the  interior  mountains,  changed  the  beds  of  rivers,  and  sent 
detached  masses  of  rock  flying  into  the  sea,  scattering  them 
in  a  belt  nine  miles  wide  along  the  coast  of  Labrador?  The 
Abbe  Clavigero  informs  us  that  in  Canada,  in  the  year  1&63, 
an  earthquake  began  on  the  5th  of  February,  and  continued 
at  intervals  for  the  space  of  six  months,  causing  the  most 
dreadful  agitation  in  the  earth,  the  rivers,  and  the  coasts  of 
the  ocean  over  the  extent  of  nine  hundred  miles  from  east 
to  west,  and  four  hundred  and  fifty  from  south  to  north,  and 
actually  overwhelmed  a  chain  of  freestone  mountains  more 
than  three  hundred  miles  long,  changing  this  immense 
tract  into  a  plain.  The  Eiver  St.  Lawrence  underwent"  re- 
markable changes  with  respect  to  its  banks  and  some  parts 
of.  its  course,  so  that  new  islands  were  formed,  and  others 
were  considerably  changed.  Have  we  not  in  this  record  the 
date  of  the  epoch  which  has  so  singularly  illustrated  the 
geological  history  of  the  Saguenay  from  its  mouth  to  Lake 
St.  John  ? 

Only  half  the  curiosities  of  this  mighty  river  have  been 
•seen  when  the  tourist  has  reached  Ha  Ha  Bay.  And  to  the 
angler  and  explorer  nothing  can  be  more  delightful  or  easy 
than  this  trip,  which  includes  no  hardships  or  wearisome 
journey  by  stage  or  wagon,  but  carries  them  at  once  into  a 
region  teeming  with  fish,  and  brimful  of  freaks  of  nature. 

From  the  little  camp  at  the  head  of  the  third  rapids  of 
Chicoutimi  there  is  a  stretch  of  still  water  for  three-quarters 
of  a  mile,  with  a  circumvallation  of  rocks  and  pines.  Sitting 
here  in  the  cool  of  the  long  summer  evenings,  one  can  see 
the  rough  waters  of  the  "  Grand  Discharge  "  glistening  like 
a  snowbank  in  the  evening  sunlight,  and  listen  to  their 
sullen  I'oar,  which  is  more  deafening  than  the  rush  of  the 
Niagara  speeding  to  its  mighty  leap. 
Louis — allons  a  coucher  ! 


ANTICOSTI. 


LL  along  the  coast  of  Labrador  the  ocean  sets  into 
the  land  by  numerous  estuaries,  creeks,  and  inlets, 
which  intersecting,  form  a  chain  of  islands  of  every 
conceivable  size  and  shape.  Most  of  them  are 
merely  barren  rocks  that  hug  the  main  land. 
Others  are  isolated  hummocks  away  out  in  the  ocean  where 
the  surf  never  ceases  to  thunder,  covered  at  all  times  with 
uncouth  wild-fowl  and  screaming  gulls,, while  the  air  above 
is  filled  with  myriads  constantly  hovering.  On  some  islands 
there  is  a  thin  deposit  of  earth  and  moss  into  which  the 
puffins  and  parokeets  burrow,  while  others  are  relieved  by 
a  scanty  growth  of  juniper  bushes,  among  which  the  eider- 
ducks  build  their  nests,  hning  them  with  silky  down  whose 
market  value  is  five  dollars  per  pound.  In  the  breeding 
season  all  these  islands  are  literally  paved  with  eggs — eggs 
of  coots,  puffins,  razor-billed  auks,  bottle-nosed  ducks,  shell- 
drakes,  shags,  sea-ducks,  gannets,  hagden,  murre,  sea-pigeons, 
gulls,  tinkers,  et  id  omne  genus.  At  the  Smithsonian  In- 
stitute they  have  a  record  of  169  varieties  of  land  and  sea 
birds  known  to  inhabit  Labrador  and  its  coast.  The  air 
above  and  around  the  islands  is  filled  with  myriads  constantly 
hovering,  and  the  whirr  of  their  rapid  circling  flight  is  like 
the  noise  of  a  factory.  To  and  from  their  feeding-grounds 
in  the  far-off  sea,  foraging  parties  are  constantly  winging 


184  ANTICOSTI. 

their  way;  keen-eyed  sentries  patrol  their  topmost  crags, 
and  scouting  parties  and  videttes  ever  on  the  alert  wheel 
and  hover  when  vessels  approach.  On  every  tier  and  ledge 
of  the  shelving  rocks  thousands  sit  demurely,  each  on  its 
individual  egg,  setting.  When  the  month  of  June  arrives, 
"  eggers  "  from  Quebec  and  Halifax  go  out  to  these  islands 
in  sloops  and  shallops,  and  effecting  a  landing  in  the  cahnest 
days,  proceed  to  break  all  the  eggs  they  find,  and  waiting 
over  night  for  new  deposits  from  the  parent  birds,  secure  a 
cargo  of  those  fresh-laid.  There  is  a  heavy  legal  penalty 
attaching  to  this  practice,  for  it  is  destructive  of  millions  of 
embryo  birds.  Nevertheless,  "  eggers "  pursue  it  "  on  the 
sly,"  and  their  precious  cargoes  are  eagerly  purchased  when- 
ever brought  to  port.  And  the  birds  do  not  seem  to  diminish 
in  the  aggregate,  though  they  frequently  disappear  from  long- 
established  breeding-grounds  after  repeated  inroads. 

Many  of  these  islands  are  bare,  perpendicular  cliffs,  inac- 
cessible even  by  boats,  except  in  unusual  weather,  on  account 
of  the  ocean  swell  which  prevents  a  landing.  A  year  or  two 
ago,  three  eggers,  who  had  succeeded  in  landing,  found 
themselves  rock-bound  by  the  rising  winds,  and  for  two 
months  they  remained  on  those  desolate  rocks  with  no  other 
shelter  than  the  rifts  and  chasms,  and  no  other  food  than 
the  birds  and  their  eggs,  or  water  than  the  rain  which  col- 
lected in  the  hollows !  Every  effort  was  made  to  get  them 
off,  even  by  Government  vessels,  employing  every  imaginable 
appliance  and  contrivance,  but  in  vain.  At  last  they  were 
rescued,  nearly  dead  with  famine  and  exposure,  just  as  the 
chilling  winds  of  September  began  to  blow. 

The  Island  of  Anticosti,  long  known  and  much  dreaded 
by  mariners,  has  remained  uninhabited  until  this  day,  by 
reason  of  its  inaccessible  coast,  its  lack  of  any  harbor  accom- 
modation whatever  for  vessels  of  large  size,  and  the  danger- 
ous currents  that  beset  it  on  every  hand.  Its  north-eastern 
coast  is  a  wall  of  white  cliffs  four  hundred  feet  high,  which 
glisten  like  snow  in  the  sun,  whenever  the  sun  shines,  for 


AKTICOSTI.  185 

sometimes  fogs  and  clouds  prevail  throughout  the  months  of 
August  and  September  to  that  degree  that  the  fishermen 
cannot  properly  dry  their  fish !  On  the  south  and  south- 
west the  shore  is  much  broken ;  there  are  two  or  three  har- 
bors large  enough  for  shallops,  and  one  is  known  as  Shallop 
Harbor.  Several  small  salmon  rivers  empty  into  the  sea,  of 
which  the  principal  are  the  Dauphine  and  Jupiter  rivers. 
These  have  been  resorted  to  for  several  years  by  net  fisher- 
men, and  have  yielded  from  fifteen  to  thirty  barrels  of  salmon 
each,  the  catch  varying  with  the  season.  Only  recently  an 
occasional  angler,  lured  principally  by  a  fondness  for  explor- 
ing out-of-the-way  places,  has  ventured  to  test  the  waters 
with  a  fly.  That  fly-fishing  is  good,  and  that  there  are  suffi- 
cient other  attractions  to  the  sportsman  to  induce  him  to 
tarry  long,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  a  British  naval  officer 
on  furlough  passed  five  weeks  there  last  summer,  landing 
upon  the  island  about  the  middle  of  July. 

Hunters  and  trappers  have  resorted  to  Anticosti  for  many 
years,  and  been  content  to  pass  the  long  and  tedious  winters 
there,  rewarded  for  hardships  endured  by  a  plentiful  return 
of  furs ;  for  the  island  fairly  swarms  with  bears  and  fur-bear- 
ing animals^  which  are  protected  from  the  inclement  weather 
by  the  dense  growth  of  evergreens  with  which  the  island  is 
covered.  . 

Codfish  appear  very  early  on  the  banks  of  Anticosti,  and 
many  fishermen  resort  there  in  the  spring  to  secure  a  fare 
before  the  fish  "strike  in"  at  places  which  they  visit  later  in 
the  season.  As  many  as  one  hundred  boats  have  been  en- 
gaged at  once.  The  most  frequented  spots  are  South-west 
Point,  Ellis  Bay,  Belle  Bay,  English  Bay,  and  McDonald's 
Cove.  There  are  fight-houses  at  Southwest  Point,  South 
Point,  West  Point,  and  Heath  Point,  with  wrecking  stations 
and  apparatus;  and  there  are,  provision  depots  for  wrecked 
mariners  at  Heath  Point,  South  Point,  Ellis  Bay,  and  Shal- 
lop Creek.  There  is  a  steam  fog-whistle  at  South  Point, 
which  sounds  once  a  minute  in  foul  weather.    It  can  be 


186  AKTICOSTI. 

heard  fifteen  miles  in  a  dead  calm;  with  the  wind  fair, 
twenty  miles ;  and  in  stormy  weather  from  three  to  eight 
miles.  At  West  Point  station  a  cannon  is  fired  every  hour 
during  fogs  and  snow-storms.  All  these  humane  provisions 
have  been  established  since  1831. 

If  Anticosti  had  good  harbors,  where  schooners  could  find 
a  safe  shelter  during  stormy  weather,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it 
would  be  visited  every  spring  by  a  large  fleet,  the  fish  always 
being  abundant  in  May;  but  its  shores  are  fraught  with 
dangers,  especially  at  this  season  of  the  year,  and  fishermen 
prefer  to  keep  away  from  them. 

Not  only  is  Anticosti  rich  in  its  natural  fisheries  of  salmon, 
cod,  and  herring,  in  its  furs,  and  in  its  forests,  but  it  has  val- 
uable mineral  products  of  economic  importance,  such  as 
marble,  limestone  for  building  and  other  purposes,  grind- 
stones, peat  bogs,  salt  springs,  and  extensive  agricultural 
capabilities.  Nevertheless  it  remained  without  an  inhabitant 
until  the  year  1828,  at  which  time  the  steamer  "Granicus," 
from  Liverpool  for  Quebec,  was  lost,  and  those  of  its  passen- 
gers who  escaped  to  the  land  all  perished  from  cold  and  star- 
vation. After  the  discovery  of  this  melancholy  disaster  in  the 
spring  succeeding  this  wreck — which  took  place  in  Novem- 
ber, just  at  the  close  of  navigation — the  British  Government 
induced  a  family  to  take  up  an  abode  there  by  the  payment 
of  a  liberal  pension.  Then,  in  1831,  followed  the  construc- 
tion of  the  first  fight-house,  and  afterwards  the  several  im- 
provements that  have  since  been  made.  From  time  to  time 
fishermen  have  built  permanent  cabins  and  settled,  induced 
by  the  remunerative  fisheries,  so  that  there  is  now  a  consid- 
erable hamlet  on  the  southwesterly  end. 

It  was  in  the  early  spring  of  1829,  somewhere  about  the 
end  of  April,  that  a  few  seal  fishermen  from  Quebec  ventured 
to  brave  the  rigors  of  the  seagon  and  run  down  to  Anticosti 
for  the  spring  fishing.  Picking  their  way,  one  still  morning, 
r^mong  the  debris  of  rocks  that  underlaid  the  cliffs  of  the 
north  side,  they  chanced  to  spy  a  rope  depending  from  the 


AlfTICOSTI.  187 

projecting  verge  oyerhead.  This  was  a  sight  to  make  the 
superstitious  quake  with  fear.  It  was  well  known  that  the 
island  had  no  inhabitants  at  that  season  of  the  year — that  no 
human  beings  but  themselves  were  there.  And  the  rope  in 
that  strange  situation  too!  It  was  marvelous  indeed!  At 
length  one  ventured  to  pull  the  rope,  to  ascertain  whether  it 
was  fast  above,  or  whether  it  had  merely  caught  in  the  rocks 
while  falling.  Mystery !  it  tolled  a  bell.  Shuddering,  the 
hardy  sealers  stood  aghast,  regarding  each  other  with  faces 
pallid  and  eyes  that  betrayed  their  fear.  Then  they  looked 
upward  toward  the  crag.  All  was  still— nothing  visible 
but  the  dark  brown  rock,  the  snow,  and  desolation.  Then 
with  trembling  hands  they  pulled  the  rope  again.  Sharply 
the  peal  of  the  bell  rang  out  upon  the  frosty  air !  Again — 
and  then  again  !  There  was  mystery  up  above.  And  as  the 
notes  prolonged,  and  reverberated  from  point  to  point,  it 
seemed  as  though  they  had  summoned  creatures  into  being 
and  waked  the  surrounding  wastes  to  populous  civiHzation. 
Convinced  that  no  other  agency  but  their  own  produced  the 
tones, — for  it  was  only  when  they  pulled  that  the  bell  tolled, 
— the  sealers  picked  their  way  around  the  coast  until  they 
found  a  place  to  ascend  to  the  plateau  above.  Over  the 
rocks  from  which  the  snow  had  melted,  and  through  thickets 
of  spruce  and  pine,  they  followed  the  windings  of  the  cliff  until 
they  reached  the  point  desired.  Then  amazement  filled 
their  senses.  A  camp  deserted — tents  half  buried  in  the 
drifts,  charred  and  blackened  brands  from  which  no  welcome 
smoke  ascended !  And  the  tents  were  made  of  old  sails,  light 
spars,  and  cordage.  On  the  edge  of  the  cliff  swung  a  ship's 
bell.  One  of  the  tents  was  more  carefully  constructed  than 
the  others,  and  seemed  to  have  been  barricaded  around  its 
base  by  logs  and  pieces  of  timber.  Pushing  the  canvas  aside 
from  the  entrance,  a  horrid  sight  was  revealed.  In  the  cen- 
ter of  the  apartment  was  a  kind  of  pit  in  which  lay  a 
shriveled  human  trunk,  minus  the  head,  legs,  and  arms,  with 
the  ashes  of  a  fire  underneath !    This  apartment  had  evi- 


188  AKTICOSTI. 

dently  been  occupied  by  women,  for  there  was  a  lady's  travel- 
ing trunk  inside  and  some  remnants  of  female  apparel. 
There  were  abundant  traces  here  of  a  fearful  wreck  and  hor- 
rible suffering.  The  yictims  had  certainly  been  reduced  to 
the  necessity  of  eating  human  flesh,  and  one  at  least  had  died ; 
but  where  were  the  rest  ?  There  were  no  clues  to  be  found 
anywhere — no  diary,  no  memorandum — nothing  but  a  simple 
tally-stick,  upon  which  had  been  scored  the  days  of  the 
month  of  February.  This  was  something.  One  p^son  had 
at  least  surviyed  until  March,  provided  all  were  dead  now. 
The  sealers  commenced  a  search.  At  last  they  discovered 
in  Fox  Bay  the  wreck  of  the  steamer  "  Granicus.'"  She 
had  evidently  been  cut  in  two  by  the  ice  and  run  ashore. 
Here  was  the  key  of  the  whole  horrible  problem.  The 
"Granicus"  had  been  reported  missing  since  the  1st  of 
November,  at  w^hich  time  she  was  due.  It  was  about  that 
time,  then,  that  the  wreck  occurred.  Her  crew  and  passengers 
were  all  originally  saved,  and  constructed  the  camp  now 
standing.  For  four  long  months — ^November,  December, 
January,  February — ^had  they  endured  the  rigors  of  a  Cana- 
dian winter  upon  that  desolate,  uninhabited  island.  No  use 
to  look  for  rehef  at  that  time  of  the  year.  Landward,  sea- 
ward,, nothing  but  ice-floes  and  pack-ice  drifting. 

Without  guns,  or  else  ammunition  exhausted,  there  were 
no  means  of  obtaining  provisions,  even  though  game  was 
abundant.  And  so,  one  by  one,  the  ill-fated  castaways  per- 
ished miserably;  and  when  the  survivors  had  become  too 
weak  or  indifferent  to  guard  their  bodies,  they  were  dragged 
off  into  the  woods  by  wild  beasts  and  devoured.  Poor  pick- 
ings they  must  have  had  from  these  shriveled  and  emaciated 
corpses!  And  the  lady  (it  was  afterwards  ascertained  from 
the  ship's  passenger  list  that  there  was  but  one  lady  aboard), 
was  carefully  protected  to  the  last — barricaded  in  her  tent 
against  the  attacks  of  famished  wild  animals  that  scented  the 
unnatural  food.  And  when  the  last  of  the  unfortunates,  save 
one,  had  eked  out  their  miserable  existence  upon  the  lean 


ANTICOSTI.  189 

flesh  of  their  comrades — the  only  food  at  hand — the  lady  in 
her  turn  yielded  up  her  life  to  the  man  who  notched  the 
weary  days  upon  his  tally-stick.  He  must  have  been  a 
butcher  by  trade  so  artistically  did  he  dismember  the  body ! 
Morsel  by  morsel,  piece  by  piece,  limb  by  hmb,  sparingly, 
the  ghoul  drew  upon  his  larder.  And  then  the  trunk  alone 
remained.  Too  weak  to  cut  it  up  he  dragged  it  bodily 
upon  the  coals;  and  then  the  fire  got  low — the  fuel  was 
exhausted.  Feebly,  with  one  final  effort,  he  dragged  himself 
outside  the  tent  to  gather  more,  and  the  wild-beasts  in  wait- 
ing carried  him  unresisting  to  their  lairs  in  the  woods — and 
there  the  frightful  record  ended !  No  wonder  the  British 
Government  hastened  to  provide  against  the  recurrence  of 
another  such  tragedy,  by  placing  upon  the  island  means  of 
rescue. 

Anticosti  now  is  stripped  of  half  its  terrors,  though  the 
unseen  dangers  of  its  mysterious  currents  remain.  Friendly 
beacons  show  far  out  at  sea,  and  there  are  havens  of  rest  for 
the  storm-tossed  and  stranded.  It  is  now  proposed  to  colo- 
nize the  island  and  thereby  develop  its  valuable  resources. 
The  "Anticogti  Company,"  a  number  of  leading  capi- 
taUsts  of  Canada,  have  purchased  it  from  the  proprietors,  and 
this  year  they  Will  set  about  their  task.  It  is  120  miles  in 
length  by  30  wide,  in  the  broadest  part,  and  contains  an  area 
of  two  miUions  and  a  quarter  of  acres.  The  only  means  of 
visiting  it  is  by  chartering  a  boat  or  shallop,  or  securing  pas- 
sage at  Quebec  upon  some  of  the  fishing  vessels  which  go 
down  in  May.  Sometimes  there  is  an  opportunity  by  the 
Govelmment  vessels  in  the  fight-house  service,  which  make 
periodical  visits  to  the  several  stations  along  the  coast. 
However,  there  is  more  generally  a  disposition  to  keep  a  safe 
distance  from  the  island  than  to  seek  it. 


LABRADOR    AND    N  E  \A^ - 
F  O  U  N  D  L  A  N  D  .^•- 


Y  notes  of  a  "  Summer  Cruise  to  Labrador "  were 
first  printed  in  the  New  York  Journal  of  Com- 

<^^o  merce,  and  subsequently  took  shape  in  the  ex- 
ZjI^      tended  article  in  Harper's  Magazine,  to  which 

^^  reference  is  here  made.  Though  now  twelve 
years  published,  it  remains  the  most  comprehensive  sketch 
of  Labrador  extant,  little  having  ever  been  written  of  that 
portion  of  its  sterile  land  which  lies  to  the  noifchward  of  the 
Belle  Isle  Strait. 

As  far  back  as  the  fifteenth  century,  Labrador  was  fre- 
quented by  Spaniards  and  Frenchmen  who  had  large  fishing- 
establishments  on  the  coast,  some  of  which  still  remain  and 
retain  the  names  given  them  by  their  former  occupants. 
Of  others  only  vestiges  of  ancient  buildings  and  fortifications 
are  traced.  At  the  Moisie,  St.  John,  and  Natashquan 
Rivers,  and  at  Mutton  Bay,  Bradore,  and  Blanc  Sablon, 
there  are  considerable  villages  where  a  large  amount  of  re- 
munerative business  is  transacted  in  summer-time.  Large 
quantities  of  codfish  and  salmon  are  prepared  for  export. 
HoUiday's  establishment  alone,  at  the  mouth  of  the  St. 
John,  puts  up  some  20,000  pounds  of  salmon  in  cans  an- 

*  See  Hajper's  Magazine,  vol.  xxii,  pages  577,  743. 


LABRADOR  AKD  NEWFOUNDLAND.        191 

■* 

nually.  All  along  the  north  shore,  from  Belle  Isle  to  lati- 
tude 57°,  are  fishing-stations  busy  with  men  and  women 
during  the  fishing  season,  who  come  from  Canada,  New- 
foundland, and  the  United  States.  At  hundreds  of  rocky^ 
islets  are  fish-stages  for  dressing  fish;  and  "flakes"  of  poles 
or  brush  strew  every  level  rock,  covered  with  codfish  drying 
in  the  sun. 

All  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence 
and  through  Belle  Isle  Strait  to  Cape  Charles,  the  coast  is 
for  the  most  part  walled  with  precipitous  cliffs  over  which 
cascades  tumble  at  intervals,  and  through  whose  occasional 
gaps  rivers  flow  into  the  sea.  But  from  Cape  Charles  north- 
ward, the  highlands  recede,  and  a  belt  of  islands  varying  in 
width  from  nine  to  eleven  miles,  girts  the  coast.  The  pas- 
sages between  these  islands  are  denominated  "  tickles,"  and 
during  the  fishing  season  swarm  with  vessels  at  anchor,  or 
passing  through ;  for,  be  it  known,  the  outside  passage  is  by 
no  means  safe  or  easy.  Even  in  most  propitious  weather, 
gales  and  sea-fogs  arise  without  warning,  and,  at  all  times, 
vessels  must  run  under  the  lee  of  the  land  at  night  for  an- 
chorage and  shelter.  Until  the  month  of  August,  icebergs 
come  drifting  down,  rendering  navigation  extremely  danger- 
ous. Currents,  created  by  the  undertow  of  these  vast  moving 
bodies  which  float  two-thirds  under  water,  always  set  toward 
the  bergs.  Often  the  bergs,  worn  by  the  waves,  and  melted 
by  the  increasing  temperature  as  they  move  southward,  be- 
come top-heavy  and  "  turn  fluke,"  or  they  burst  asunder,  and 
strew  the  surface  of  the  ocean  with  acres  upon  acres  of  their 
fragments. 

Although  several  of.  the  rivers  of  Northern  Labrador 
afford  good  rod-fishing,  yet  a  trip  to  this  inhospitable  region 
can  hardly  be  recommended,  unless,  indeed,  the  angler  be 
enthusiastic  enough  to  volunteer  for  a  Polar  Expedition. 
Still,  a  voyage  in  a  steam-yacht  has  more  than  once  been 
made  by  parties  of  gentlemen  with  satisfactory,  reward  of 
novelty  and  strange  experiences ;  and  the  cruise  has  even 


192  LABEADOB  AKD  KEWF0UNDLA2<rD. 

been  accomplished  in  sailing  vessels  with  enjoyable  results. 
There  is  much  pleasure  in  noting  the  brilliant  colors  and 
fantastic  shapes  of  icebergs;  in  watching  the  gambols  of 
whales  and  grampuses;  in  visiting  the  isolated  bird  rocks, 
which  swarm  with  wild  fowl  innumerable,  and  are  strewn 
with  their  eggs  in  countless  numbers.  In  this  latitude  is  the 
home  of  the  seal  and  sea-lion,  and  the  trysting-place  of 
eider-ducks,  whose  down  brings  fancy  prices  in  the  markets 
of  the  world.  And  as  one  goes  northward,  the  Aurora  Bo- 
realis  scintillates  and  blazes  in  its  full  hyperborean  splendor; 
sundogs  and  parhelia  light  up  the  sky  with  rainbow  tints; 
the  days  are  long,  and  twilight  hngers  nearly  into  midnight. 
But  the  coast  is  bleak  and  desolate,  enlivened  by  no  vegeta- 
tion, save  mosses  and  scanty  grass.  Two  days  out  of  three 
are  cold  and  foggy,  and  unless  one's  spirit  of  adventure  leads 
him  to  make  frequent  excursions  into  the  main-land,  his  ex- 
perience becomes  in  time  a  tiresome  monotony. 

Upon  the  main-land  there  is  in  places  a  considerable  growth 
of  spruce,  and  though  the  cod-fishermen  seldom  visit  here, 
the  tourist  may  see  occasionally  the  seal-skin  "toupiks"  of 
Esquimaux  families  who  have  come  from  their  winter  quar- 
ters in  the  interior  down  to  the  coast  to  catch  their  year's 
supply  of  fish.  There  is  good  bird-shooting  always,  both  of 
land  and  sea  fowl. 

At  Henley  Harbor,  near  the  eastern  entrance  of  Belle 
Isle  Strait,  the  curlews  swarm  in  August,  and  there  is  a 
stream  that  affords  good  trout-fishing.  At  Snug  Harbor  are 
large  trout.  In  the  four  rivers  that  empty  into  Sandwich 
Bay,  lat.  54°,  there  is  excellent  salmon-fishing ;  also  at  Byr 
ron's  Bay,  two  degrees  farther  north.  But  the  ultima  thule 
of  the  angler's  aspirations  is  in  the  waters  of  the  great  Es- 
quimaux Bay  or  Invucktoke  Inlet,  lat.  55°,  which  penetrates 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  into  the  interior.  Fifteen 
miles  above  its  mouth  is  Flatwater  River.  Here,  about  the 
middle  of  the  flood-tide,  one  may  take  his  stand  upon  a  long 
sand-bar,  then  uncovered,  and  catch  sea-trout  by  the  score, 


LABKADOR  AND  KEWFOUNDLAND.  193 

with  little  risk  of  losing  his  fish  when  hooked.  The  game 
is  active,  but  there  are  no  obstructions  of  rocks  or  brush,  and 
the  angler  has  merely  to  take  a  run  of  the  sand-bar,  and 
follow  his  fish  until  a  victory  brings  reward.  Sixty  miles  up 
is  Kigolet,  a  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  post,  where  salmon- 
fishing  maybe  enjoyed  in  the  "Narrows,"  through  which 
the  tide  ebbs  and  flows  with  turbulent  velocity.  The 
scenery  along  this  bay  is  romantic,  the  shores  quite  densely 
wooded  with  spruce,  with  two  or  three  peaks  of  high  eleva- 
tion to  diversify  the  landscape.  But  the  musquitoes  are 
ravenous  and  swarm  in  clouds.  Labrador  musquitoes  are 
larger  and  more  savage  than  those  of  Florida,  and  most  in-- 
dustriously  do  they  improve  the  short  shining  hours  of  their 
summer  probation. 

At  the  Narrows  the  hills  on  either  side  tower  to  the 
height  of  eight  hundred  feet,  and  continue  for  a  mile.  They 
then  trend  to  the  southwest  and  merge  into  the  mountain 
range  which  divides  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  coast  from 
those  that  flow  into  Hudson's  Bay.  Above  the  Narrows  the 
Esquimaux  Bay  widens  into  a  lake  thirty  miles  long  by  eight 
in  width.  Into  this  lake  flow  the  Northwest-,  Tomliscom 
and  Hamilton  Rivers.  The  latter  is  at  the  head  of  the  lake, 
and  is  its  principal  inlet.  The  Indians  say  it  has  falls  1200 
feet  high!  At  Northwest  River  is  another  Hudson's  Bay 
trading-post,  and  here  is  the  finest  salmon-fishing  in  this  re- 
gion. Following  this  river  over  a  series  of  rapids,  portages, 
and  falls,  is  a  trail  that  leads  to  another  post  on  Ungava 
Bay,  which  is  an  indentation  of  the  great  Hudson's  Bay. 

Certainly,  the  Labrador  comes  within  the  scope  of  the 
angler's  research ;  but  its  range  is  so  immense,  and  ii^  field 
so  far  beyond  the  reach  of  ordinary  ambition,  that  any  refer- 
ence to  its  waters  might  reasonably  be  omitted  in  this  work 
except  that  some  mention  is  requisite  to  make  my  Angler's 
Guide  complete. 

Of  the  flu^dal  geography  of  Newfoundland  comparatively 
little  is  known.    It  was  only  as  recently  as  1825  that  the 
13 


194  LABRADOR  A:N'D   NEWFOUKDLAI^D. 

first  roads  were  made  from  St.  Johns,  the  capital,  to  the 
neighboring  settlements !  and  yet  the  island  was  the  earliest 
discovered  land  in  America.  Biom,  an  Icelandic  sea-king, 
sailed  into  its  Harbor  Grace  in  year  1001 ;  and  John  Cabot, 
the  Venetian  explorer,  discovered  Bonavista  in  1497.  And 
within  seven  years  from  the  latter  date  until  now,  it  has 
been  noted  for  its  fisheries  of  cod  and  salmon,  and  fre- 
quented by  vessels  innumerable  of  many  nations — French, 
Portuguese,  Spaniards,  English,  and  Americans.  Its  rivers 
have  always  been  fished  without  restriction,  and  without  re- 
gard to  the  consequences  of  wholesale  slaughter,  even  to  the 
"  barring"  of  the  streams  in  the  spawning  season.  Obstruc- 
tions were  so  placed  as  to  prevent  the  ascent  of  the  salmon, 
and  they  were  speared  and  netted  with  wanton  waste. 
Nevertheless  so  much  of  the  country  is  even  to  this  day 
unexplored,  and  the  resources  seem  so  inexhaustible,  that 
unsurpassed  fishing  is  afibrded  in  many  rivers.  These,  how- 
ever, are  scarcely  accessible  except  to  the  most  persistent 
angler.  From  St.  Johns,  to  which  there  is  fortnightly  com- 
munication by  steamer  from  Halifax,  the  only  means  of  ac- 
cess is  by  coastwise  vessels.  Of  the  several  rivers  the  chief 
are  as  follows : 

The  Eiver  of  Exploits,  on  the  east  side  of  the  island,  con- 
nects the  Bay  of  that  name  with  Eed  Indian  Lake.  This 
stream  is  seventy  miles  long,  with  long  still  reaches,  beautiful 
cascades,  and  one  great  waterfall  eighty  feet  high.  Its  cur- 
rent is  very  rapid.  The  shores  are  level,  with  rank  grass 
growing  down  to  the  water's  edge,  ajffording  the  most  unlimited 
play  for  fly-fishing.  These  shores  recede  to  various  distances, 
from  five  hundred  yards  t?)  several  miles,  to  the  foot  of  hills 
wooded  with  tall  and  stately  pines  and  spruces.  It  is  navi- 
gable for  canoes  ninety  miles  from  its  mouth. 

The  Gander  Eiver,  ten  miles  to  the  southward,  flows  into 
Gander  Bay. 

Still  further  south,  are  rivers  that  flow  into  Catalina  Bay. 


LABKADOR  AKD   NEWFOUHDLA^N^D.  195 

On  the  extreme  south,  the  rivers  that  empty  into  Placen- 
tia  and  Little  Bays. 

Fortune  Bay,  on  the  south,  receives  several  good  fishing 
rivers  that  head  in  inland  lakes. 

St.  George's  Bay,  on  the  southwest,  receives  several  rivers 
that  flow  from  interior  lakes. 

Into  the  Bay  of  Islands,  on  the  west,  three  rivers  empty. 
One  of  them,  the  Humber,  has  "been  explored  for  one  hun- 
dred and  fourteen  miles.  It  runs  northwest,  and  heads  in  a 
large  lake.  It  is  asserted  by  those  who  have  tested  it,  that 
its  salmon  will  not  rise  to  a  fly ;  but  there  are  enormous 
trout  (not  sea-trout,  Salmo  trutta),  weighing  often  twelve 
pounds,  which  take  the  fly  greedily,  and  can  be  caught  in 
great  numbers. 

Castor's  Eiver  flows  into  St.  John's  Bay  on  the  nortliwest, 
and  is  a*  capital  salmon  stream. 

The  interior  of  Newfoundland  is  diversified  with  lakes, 
a  few  mountains,  marshes,  and  plains  filled  with  rocks  and 
termed  "  barrens."  These  afford  good  ptarmigan  and  cari- 
boo shooting.  There  are  two  varieties  of  the  cariboo.  The 
ptarmigan  is  the  ruffed-grouse  of  the  States,  but  in  New- 
foundland and  Labrador  changes  its  plumage  with  the  re- 
curring seasons^  being  nearly  a  pure  white  in  winter  and  a 
reddish-brown  in  summer,  with  gradations  for  spring  and 
autumn. 

The  angling  season  of  Labrador  is  restricted  to  about 
seven  weeks,  beginning  July  1st  and  ending  August  20th. 
In  Newfoundland  it  is  a  little  longer.  Pilots  for  the  coast 
can  be  obtained  at  St.  John,  Harbor  Grace,  or  anywhere 
along  shore,  for  that  matter. 


THE    OTTA^A/■A    DISTRICT. 


>HE  Ottawa  Elver  diyides  the  Province  of  Quebec 
from  the  Province  of  Ontario.  The  Ottawa  dis- 
trict properly  includes  all  the  lakes  and  rivers  tri- 
butary to  the  Ottawa  Eiver,  though  it  is  generally 
understood  to  embrace  only  the  two  immense 
counties  of  Pontiac  and  Ottawa,  in  the  Province  of  Quebec. 
This  district  is  easily  reached  by  railway  from  Ogdensburg, 
and  from  Brockville,  on  the  Great  Western  Kailway,  to  Ann- 
prior,  on  the  Ottawa  Eiver.  It  is  one  of  the  most  abundant 
game  and  fish  countries  in  America.  By  reason  of  its  accessi- 
bility, it  has  long  been  exposed  to  the  ravages  of  wanton  and 
indiscriminate  pot-hunters.  Only  as  recently  as  a  year  ago, 
a  Dominion  officer  reported  that  no  less  than  four  hundred 
moose  and  one  hundred  deer  had  been  slaughtered  for  their 
hides  in  the  single  district  of  Coulogne,  and  their  carcasses 
left  a  prey  for  wolves.  Until  1870  its  waters  had  been  most 
wastefully  and  persistently  fished  in  the  interests  of  dealers 
who  contracted  for  the  fish  to  be  delivered  to  them  for  sale 
in  the  United  States  markets,  where  they  bring  large  prices 
with  a  constant  demand.  Of  late,  however,  the  Dominion 
Government  requires  parties  going  to  fish  as  a  business,  to 
take  out  licenses,  which  insures  much  protection  to  the 
fisheries;  for  those  holding  licenses  naturally  look  with  a 
jealous  eye  upon  those  who  have  none,  and  either  prevent 
them  from  fishing  illegally,  or  report  the  delinquents  to  the 


THE  OTTAWA  DISTKICT.  197 

overseer.  Many  of  the  lakes  can  be  reached  only  when  the 
snow  sets  in,  so  as  to  make  the  woods  passable.  •  The  Gati- 
neau  Lakes,  in  Ottawa  county,  teem  with  fine  trout,  some 
of  a  very  large  size,  and  with  whitefish  {Corregonus  alhus)^ 
some  of  which  weigh  as  high  as  thirteen  pounds.  So  plenti- 
ful are  they  that  it  is  asserted  that  2,000  lbs.  weight  could 
be  supplied  for  market  weekly.  Pemachonga,  one  of  the 
chain  of  lakes,  contains  speckled  and  gray  trout  (tuladi), 
maskinonge,  and  pike.  In  Thirty-one  Mile  Lake,  black  bass 
abound  near  the  small  islands.  At  Whitefish  Lake,  two  years 
ago,  whitefish  were  so  plentiful  that  for  miles  along  the  shore 
the  water  seemed  alive  with  them.  In  the  townships  of 
Wakefield,  Portland,  and  others,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
city  of  Ottawa,  the  streams  have  been  set  apart  for  natural 
propagation  and  weU  protected.  They  literally  teem  with 
speckled  trout,  and  being  easy  of  access,  are  a  source  of  great 
enjoyment  to  anglers.  Last  winter  not  less  than  three  tons 
of  trout  were  brought  to  the  Ottawa  market,  and  about  half 
a  ton  of  pickerel. 

Anglers  who  propose  to  visit  this  utter  wilderness,  will 
be  able  to  get  information  and  guides  at  Ottawa.  Those 
who  go  must  expect  to  rough  it.  There  is  no  other  alter- 
native. 


SUPERIOR. 


Q;  OW  many  vacation  tourists  have  feasted  their  won- 
dering eyes  upon  the  strange  phenomena  and  mar- 
velous scenery  of  Lake  Superior!  Thinly  settled 
as  its  shores  and  adjacent  waters  are,  most  persons 
are  famihar  with  their  varied  points  of  interest. 
Who  has  not  heard,  at  l^ast,  of  the  "  Pictured  Eocks "  and 
shifting  sands  of  its  Michigan  shore ;  of  the  beetling  cliffs, 
rifted  and  seamed  and  honeycombed  with  caves  which 
the  waves  have  worn,  that  girt  its  northern  coast  from  Gros 
Cap  to  St.  Louis  River ;  of  the  boulders  and  debris  of  shat- 
tered rocks  piled  up  and  strewn  all  along  their  bases ;  of  the 
terrific  gales  and  sudden  gusts  that  vex  and  harrow  its 
surface  even  in  its  most  placid  summer  moods  ?  Here  half- 
civilized  Indians  swarm  in  crowds,  making  its  fastnesses  their 
home.  In  its  cold  deep  waters  the  great  namaycush  or 
Mackinaw  salmon  loves  to  dwell ;  and  in  all  bays  where  the 
bottom  is  rocky  and  the  water  no  more  than  one  hundred 
feet  deep,  he  can  be  caught  readily  with  the  hook.  All  the 
rivers  on  the  north  shore,  from  Point  aux  Pines  to  Pigeon 
River,  teem  with  trout  to  that  degree  that  their  numbers 
become  a  nuisance  to  the  angler.  The  whole  coast  is  but 
one  grand  trout  present  !  And  there  are  fish  of  grosser  and 
plebeian  stock — the  maskinonge,  pike,  and  sturgeon,  and 
others  of  less  degree.      A  bold  biter  is  that  namaycush 


SUPEKIOK.  199 

• 

{Salmo  amethystus),  and  a  dead  weight  on  the  line  that  holds 
him  by  the  lip.  He  resigns  himself  to  his  fate  as  soon  as 
caught,  and  makes  no  fight  for  life ;  the  only  resistance  he 
offers  is  the  vis  inertim  of  his  seventy-five  pound  bulk.  An 
ignoble  slander  upon  the  noble  name  of  salmon,  he  is  as 
phlegmatic  as  a  beery  Dutchman,  suffering .  himself  to  be 
reeled  in  slowly  until  he  is  safe  alongside  of  the  canoe.  Then 
the  gaff  is  used,  and  when  his  great  carcass  is  hoisted  over 
the  side,  he  gives  a  convulsive  gasp  or  two,  and  splutters  out 
his  last  "  ach  Gott "  on  the  bottom. 

Besides  these  fish  there  are  the  cisco  and  whitefish,  the  last 
especially  of  delicious  flavor ;  but  neither  are  game  for  the 
angler. 

The  author  of  "  Superior  Fishing ''  has  written  so  volu- 
minously of  this  remarkable  region  and  its  finny  inhabi- 
tants, that  in  indicating  some  choice  selection  of  its  angling 
waters,  I  can  do  little  more  than  gracefully  refer  my  readers 
to  his  book.  I  recapitulate  briefly  that  Garden  River,  near 
Sault  Ste.  Marie,  is  a  fine  trout  stream,  but  difficult  to 
ascend.  The  Yellow  Dog,  Dead,  and  Salmon  Trout  Rivers, 
sixty  miles  west  of  Marquette,  afford  good  fishing.  Brule 
River  and  Lake,  and  all  the  rivers  and  waters  in  the  vicinity 
of  Bayfield  and  Apostle  Islands,  will  delight  the  angler.  The 
Harmony,  Agawa,  and  Batchawaung  on  the  north  shore, 
with  some  two  or  three  other  rivers  that  empty  into  Batcha- 
waung Bay — a  day's  sail  from  the  Sault,  are  not  only  noted 
for  the  size  and  number  of  their  trout,  but  for  the  romantic 
beauty  of  their  scenery.  However,  they  are  liable  to  become 
heated  in  midsummer,  and  then  the  fish  retreat  to  the  colder 
waters  of  the  great  lake. 

Yet  there  is  one  river  and  district  which  has  never  been 
described  in  books.  It  so  greatly  excels  all  others  of  the 
Superior  region,  and  all  known  trouting  waters  of  America, 
that  those  who  read  thereof  may  well  wonder  and  reflect. 
I  refer  to  the  Neepigon  and  the  head-waters  of  the  great 
St.  Lawrence  chain  of  lakes.    If  perchance  some  credulous 


200  SUPEBIOR. 

anglers  shall  be  allured  by  inducements  herein  given  to  un- 
dertake the  trip  thereto,  let  them  provide  a  good  outfit  of 
warm  clothing,  and  plenty  of  oil  of  tar  (one  part  tar  and 
four  of  sweet  oil)  to  keep  off  the  flies,  take  their  trouting- 
tackle,  and  go  to  Collin gwood,  via.  the  Northern  Eailroad 
from  Toronto.  There  take  the  steamer  through  Georgian 
Bay  to  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  steaming  meanwhile  for  one 
whole  day  among  innumerable  islands,  great  and  small,  and 
touching  at  many  little  points  upon  the  route,  all  chock-full 
of  novelty  and  interest  unabating.  At  the  Sault,  if  pre- 
viously arranged  as  I  shall  hereafter  direct,  guides  and  canoes 
for  the  anticipated  excursion  may  be  put  on  board.  Thence, 
passing  through  the  magnificent  canal  by  its  two  great  locks, 
catching  frequent  glimpses  of  the  rushing  tide  which  dis- 
charges from  Lake  Superior,  we  enter  the  broad  expanse  of 
that  great  lake  and  continue  our  voyage  to  "Eed  Rock" 
landing,  on  the  great  Neepigon  Bay.  Before  we  reach  this, 
our  place  of  destination,  we  shall  touch  at  the  Michipicoton 
River,  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake,  where  there  is  excellent 
trout-fishing,  though  its  heavy  portages  are  much  of  a  drawr 
back  to  the  angler.  But  as  we  have  a  promise  of  something 
better  than  this,  we  journey  on,  casting  one  lingering  look 
behind.  Arriving  at  Red  Rock,  we  find  a  comfortable  frame- 
house  and  store,  which  belonged  to  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany, in  the  palmy  days  of  its  reign,  located  on  a  grassy  pla- 
teaiiywith  a  bright  red-sandstone  bluff  in  the  foreground, 
and  a  range  of  wooded  hills  behind.  Here  we  are  received 
with  an  old-fashioned  Scotch  welcome  by  Robert  Crawford, 
Esq.,  recently  the  agent,  and  his  "gude  wife,"  who  spreads 
before  us  an  entertainment  that  might  propitiate  the  gods — 
I  mean  such  heathen  gods  as  depend  upon  their  appetite  and 
diet  to  shape  the  ends  of  their  divinity.  Here  may  be  ob- 
tained everything  needful  for  a  protracted  voyage,  such  as 
tents,  canoes,  guides,  clothing,  shoes,  blankets,  and  provisions, 
in  great  variety — everything  but  fishing-tackle;  this,  of 
course,  the  angler  will  provide  for  himself.    Parties  intend- 


SUPERIOK.  201 

ing  to  visit  the  Keepigoii  should  write  Mr.  Crawford  suffi- 
ciently in  advance  of  their  arrival  to  secure  canoes  and 
Indians;. as  it  may  be  necessary  to  send  to  the  Sault  for 
them,  where  a  number  are  always  to  be  had.  Or  a  letter 
may  be  addressed  to  J.  G.  H.  Carlton,  Esq.,  Lock-master, 
Sault  Ste.  Marie,  Michigan,  who  will  aiTange  to  have  guides 
and  canoes  ready  at  any  time  to  go  aboard  the  steamboat 
with  the  excursion  party. 

Having  enjoyed  a  night  of  refreshing  slumber  at  Craw- 
ford's, we  are  ready  in  the  moAiing  for  a  start  up  stream. 
Our  outfit  is  completed,  the  canoe  laden  with  all  essentials, 
and  we  only  await  the  arrival  of  Pooray,  our  Indian  guide, 
from  his  wigwam  up  the  river.  With  commendable  punctu- 
ality he  presently  puts  in  an  appearance,  bringing  with  him 
a  specimen-trout  from  the  regions  above,  which  causes  our 
eyes  to  dilate  and  our  nerves  to  thrill  with  pleasurable  anti- 
cipation. In  size  it  resembles  a  good-sized  shad ;  but  its 
native  characteristics  are  perfect,  with  every  mark  and  line 
and  color  of  the  genuine  Salmo  fontinalis  gleaming  in  royal 
splendor.  It  weighs  4]-  pounds,  but  we  are  quietly  informed 
that  "  this  is  a  common  size  here ! " 

The  river  Neepigon  is  a  noble  stream,  with  water  cold  and 
clear  as  crystal,  flowing  with  a  volume  six  hundred  feet  wide 
into  a  magnificent  bay  of  great  extent.  This  bay  is  sur- 
rounded by  long,  undulating  ranges  of  hills,  rugged  preci- 
pices, huge  blufls,  and  lofty  mountains,  more  or  less  wooded 
with  evergreens  interspersed  with  deciduous  trees,  and  filled 
with  islands  of  all  sizes  and  every  variety  of  outhne.  It  is  at 
once  one  of  the  safest  and  most  beautiful  harbors  on  Lake 
Superior.  The  first  rapids  occur  about  one-quarter  of  a  mile 
above  the  station,  and  are  a  mile  in  length.  They  can  be 
surmounted  by  canoes,  but  we  prefer  an  easier  method ;  our 
loaded  canoe  is  placed  on  an  ox-cart  and  portaged  over. 
With  a  crack  of  the  whip  the  team  gets  under  way,  and,  bid- 
ding adieu  to  the  hospitable  station,  we  trundle  ofi",  with  our 
traps,  guns,  rods,  and  provisions  well  stowed,  and  a  little 


202  SUPERIOR. 

cocker  spaniel  mounted  on  the  top  of  the  load — a  dog  that 
earned  his  weight  in  currency  during  our  absence  by  putting 
up  rabbits,  partridges,  etc.,  which  added  delicious  yariety  to 
the  larder. 

At  the  head  of  the  rapids  the  river  expands  into  a  sheet. of 
water  six  miles  long  by  one  mile  wide,  called  Lake  Helen, 
which  is  surrounded  by  scenery  so  enchanting  that  we  are 
already  in  love  with  Neepigon,  and  feel  amply  repaid  for 
sacrifices  or  hardships  undergone  thus  far.  Twelve  miles 
above  the  first  rapids  is  a  portage  three  miles  in  length,  the 
longest  on  the  river,  and  known  as  "Long  Portage." 
Thence,  to  the  head  of  the  river,  which  is  forty-five  miles  dis- 
tant from  its  mouth,  there  are  alternate  rapids  and  stretches 
of  still  water  which  frequently  widen  into  lakes.  There  are 
fifteen  rapids  in  all,  and  at  each  there  is  the  best  of  trout- 
fishing.  Some  of  the  lakes  are  two  or  three  miles  in  length, 
and  are  known  as  Duck  Lake,  Pike  Lake,  Lake  of  the  Five 
Islands,  Lake  Emma,  etc.  The  shoaler  ones  abound  in  large 
pike.  Occasionally  brooks  flow  into  the  river  over  ledges  of 
rock.  One  of  the  portages  traverses  a  beautiful  pine  grove ; 
another  cuts  off  a  bend  of  the  river  which  is  studded  with 
islands.  Three  miles  below  the  head  of  the  river  are  the 
Virgin  Falls,  twenty-five  feet  high.  Altogether  the  scenery 
is  the  most  diversified  imaginable,  and  constantly  presents 
changes  of  the  most  enchanting  character.  This  is  not  one 
of  those  wildernesses  that  *'howl."  Though  civilization 
dwells  not  here,  and  though  the  forest  is  primeval,  this 
water-course  has  been  a  thoroughfare  for  trappers  and  voya- 
geurs  for  sixty  years.  At  considerable  intervals,  all  along, 
are  grassy  spots  where  the  hardy  sons  of  toil  have  made  their 
frequent  camps.  There  are  no  windfalls  to  surmount,  and 
no  inextricable  and  intricate  masses  of  undergrowth  to  cut 
through  with  axe  and  knife.  From  the  falls  the  river  widens 
gradually,  enclosing  within  its  area  dozens  of  small  islands 
variegated  with  evergreens,  birch,  poplar,  larch,  tamarack, 
etc.,  and  then  expands  into  a  vast  inland  sea  whose  shores 


SUPERIOR.  203 

gradually  recede  beyond  the  limit  of  vision.  In  the  far- 
distant  horizon  sky  and  water  meet,  and  the  waves  roll  up 
on  shore  with  a  volume  and  dash  as  turbulent  in  storms  as 
those  of  Erie  or  Superior.  Its  bays  are  numerous  and  vast. 
Some  of  them  are  very  deep,  and  extend  inland  for  twenty 
miles,  teeming  with  trout,  lake-trout,  pike,  and  pickerel. 
Into  it  flow  large  rivers,  that  have  their  sources  in  the 
Heights  of  Land  which  constitute  the  watershed  that  divides! 
the  waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence  chain  from  those  of  Hudson's 
Bay  and  the  Arctic  zone. 

This  is  Neepigon  Lake,  seldom  even  indicated  on  maps, 
and  scarcely  known  except  to  the  Indians  and  the  officers 
and  servants  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  who  have  long 
used  this  route  as  a  highway  to  their  more  northern  posts. 
The  heights  of  land  alluded  to  are  twenty  miles  beyond  its 
northern  boundary.  And  there  are  other  routes  from  Lake 
Superior  to  ultimate  regions.  One  through  Pigeon  Eiver, 
Sturgeon  Lake,  and  Rainy  RivQr  into  the  Lake  of  the  Woods 
(which  is  only  ninety  miles  from  the  Eed  River  or  Selkirk 
Settlement),  and  thence  to  Hudson's  Bay,  has  served  to  locate 
the  boundary  between  the  United  States  and  British  posses- 
sions. Another  through  Brule  River  leads  to  the  rivers  that 
empty  into  the  Pacific  Ocean.  This  was  the  thoroughfare 
that  connected  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  outposts  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  Pacific  with  the  grand  entrep6t  at 
Montreal.  The  route  now  being  surveyed  for  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railroad  follows  this  long-established  highway  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  distance.  .  The  surveyors  find  no  easier 
grades.  By-and-by  this  iron  railroad  will  transport  to  Canada 
■  the  wealth  that  flows  from  the  gold  mines  of  Fraser  River, 
the  coal  fields  of  Vancouver,  the  inexhaustible  fisheries  of 
British  Columbia,  and  the  fertile  plains  of  the  Saskatchewan, 
the  Red  River,  and  the  Assiniboine — waters  which,  commu- 
nicating by  means  of  portages,  lead  all  the  way  to  the  imme- 
diate neighborhood  of  Lake  Superior. 


204  SUPERIOE. 

If  we  are  to  believe  the  assertions  of  those  whose  yeracity 
is  unquestionable,  this  JSieepigon  Lake  is  as  large  as  Ontario, 
with  a  greater  water  area*  It  is  the  first  of  the  series  of  six  great 
lakes  which  comprise  the  St.  Lawrence  chain.  What  a  marvel- 
ous inland  water-course  is  this,  extending  continuously  through 
Neepigon  Lake  and  Elver,  through  Lake  Superior,  the  Sault 
Ste.  Marie,  Lake  Huron,  the  Detroit  Kiver,  Erie,  the  Niagara 
Eiver,  Ontario,  and  the  River  St.  Lawrence — nearly  4000 
rniles  in  all !  And  if  to  this  be  added  the  route  just  traced 
above,  we  have  a  water-course  that  spans  the  continent,  bro- 
ken only  by  a  few  portages  comparatively  short. 

And  now  with  a  concluding  word  as  to  the  size  and  num- 
ber of  the  trout  in  Neepigon,  we  leave  this  region  to  the  ex- 
ploration and  research  of  future  anglers  and  investigators. 

At  the  first  rapids  and  within  sight  of  the  steamboat 
landing,  one  may  tarry  and  fish  to  repletion  of-  desire  and 
basket,  without  going  further.  Passengers,  while  waiting 
for  the  departure  of  the  steamer,  have  caught  within  an  hour 
or  so  from  off  the  dock,  trout  ranging  from  IJ  to  5  lbs.  each. 
Of  one  hundred  and  fifty  fish  which  we  have  caught,  the 
average,  by  actual  test,  was  a  little  above  2^  lbs.  The  score 
runs  thus,  on  exceptional  occasions :  5  fish,  18|  lbs. ;  5  fish, 
20  lbs. ;  5  fish,  23  lbs. ;  6  fish,  22J-  lbs.  And  this  is  about  as 
they  run  in  the  river.  There  are  some  small  fish,  but  they 
are  very  scarce.  Up  in  the  Lake  they  have  been  caught 
weighing  as  heavy  as  12  lbs.  In  short,  one  may  hook  and 
land  on  stout  gear  as  many  trout  as  he  has  flies  on  his  line. 
I  have  known  four  to  be  landed  at  once  weighing  in  the 
aggregate  nearly  14  lbs.  Of  course,  the  true  essence  of  sport 
is  in  using  a  single  fly,  so  that  the  angler  may  have  the  full 
benefit  of  his  captive's  vigorous  play.  For  activity  and 
endurance  the  Neepigon  trout  have  no  superiors.  Small 
salmon-flies  are  the  best  for  use — ^gaudy  flies  for  the  lake,  and 
red  or  brown  hackles  for  the  river ;  and  the  tackle  should  be 
somewhat  stronger  than  that  employed  in  ordinary  rivers. 


SUPERIOR.  205 

Imitation  minnows,  or  even  a  spoon,  are  killing  bait,  but 
these  a  true  sportsman  will  scorn  to  use. 

Black  flies,  mosquitoes,  and  sand-flies  are  more  numerous 
and  venomous  here  than  in  New  Brunswick,  and  fairly  rival 
the  Labrador  varieties.  The  best  season  for  fishing  is 
throughout  the  months  of  July  and  August. 


THE    MICHIGAN    PENINSULA. 


'N  many  of  the  rivers  of  Michigan  lying  north  of  Bay 
City,  but  in  none  south  of  it,  is  found  the  Grayhng 
{Thymallus  tricolor),  a  superb  game-fish,  not  hith- 
erto recognized  as  a  native  of  this  country.  It  has 
now,  however,  been  fully  identified  by  experts,  by  com- 
parison of  specimens  obtained  in  winter,  with  the  famous 
Grayling  of  England.  Every  minute  spot,  lateral  line,  scale, 
and  fin-ray  that  exists  in  the  foreign  variety  is  reproduced 
in  those  caught  here.  It  varies  in  size  from  eight  to  four- 
teen inches,  and  much  resembles  the  Scisco.  Its  back  is  of 
a  dark-grey  color,  and  its  sides  are  covered  with  fine  whitish 
silvery  scales  running  in  well-defined  lateral  lines,  and  dot- 
ted with  shining  diminutive  black  spots  a  half-inch  or  so 
apart,  especially  about  the  shoulders.  It  has  a  very  large 
square  first  dorsal  fin  with  eighteen  rays,  which  divide  into 
two  branches  one-third  their  length  from  the  top.  Its  sec- 
ond dorsal  is  adipose,  its  caudal  fin  as  much  forked  as  that 
of  a  grilse,  and  with  twenty-one  rays.  It  has  no  teeth  upon 
either  jaws  or  tongue ;  but  a  minutely  serrated  edge  upon 
the  jaws  might  be  taken  for  teeth.  Its  mouth,  when  open, 
is  nearly  square.  It  has  a  peculiar  odor,  not  unpleasant  for 
a  "fish-like  smell,"  hence  thymallus.  A  grayhng  two  years 
old  has  the  black  spots,  but  not  the  well-defined  distinctive 
lateral  fines  of  the  adult  fish.    At  three  years  old  it  weighs 


THE  MICHIGAlsr  PEN^IKSULA.  207 

a  half  pound,  and  adds  one  quarter  of  a '  pound  per  annum 
to  its  weight  until  it  attains  a  weight  of  three  or  four 
pounds.  In  England  it  spawns  in  April  and  May,  and  the 
anghng  season  commences  about  the  middle  of  July  and 
continues  through  October.  In  this  country  it  is  in  sea- 
son from  May  to  October.  It  begins  to  spawn  in  February, 
and  continues  throughout  the  months  of  March  and  April. 
It  thrives  best  in  rivers  flowing  with  gentle  current,  whose 
beds  are  composed  in  part  or  wholly  of  sandy  gravel  or  loam. 
It  feeds  on  minnows,  but  takes  the  fly  or  artificial  grasshop- 
per with  avidity. 

Although  abundant  in  many  parts  of  England,  its  habitat 
is  local,  just  as  it  is  in  Michigan.  It  is  caught  in  only  four 
rivers  of  Wales,  and  in  Scotland  only  in  the  Clyde,  where  it 
was  introduced  twelve  years  ago.  In  Michigan  it  is  caught  in 
the  Muskigon  Eiver,  which  is  as  far  south  as  they  are  caught 
in  any  stream  that  empties  into  Lake  Michigan ;  in  the 
Manistee  and  all  the  streams  to  the  northward  as  far  up  as 
Mackinaw ;  in  Indian  Eiver,  a  stream  connecting  two  lakes 
and  emptying  into  Traverse  Bay ;  in  the  Au  Sable  and  the  An 
Ores  rivers,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  State ;  and  in  the 
Eiver  Hersey,  a  tributary  of  the  Muskigon.  The  latter  is  the 
most  accessible  of  any  of  the  streams — eleven  hours  from 
Detroit  by  the  Flint  and  Marquette  Eailroad,  with  a  good 
hotel  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  depot,  kept  by  A.  D. 
Wood,  who  is  himself  a  thorough  sportsman  and  well-posted. 
One  mile  from  the  hotel,  fishing  begins  and  extends  along 
a  mile  and  a  half  of  cleared  bank,  which  gives  a  genuine 
sportsman  a  fair  cast.  The  country  affords  no  worms; 
therefore  the  mere  bait-fisher  will  have  a  poor  show.  It  is  a 
beautiful  stream  of  clear  spring  water,  about  twenty  rods 
wide.  There  are  no  other  fish  in  it  but  suckers.  The  best 
time  for  angling  is  as  soon  as  the  spring  freshets  subside, 
from  the  middle  to  the  last  of  May.  The  Au  Sable  is  the 
next  most  accessible  stream,  and  is  reached  from  Bay  City 
by  the  Mackinaw  Eailroad,  which  runs  due  north  to  the 


308  THE  MICHIGAN  PEKIKSULA. 

Strait.  This  road  passes  within  eight  miles  of  the  east  end 
of  Houghton  Lake  and  strikes  the  sources  of  many  streams 
which  abound  in  trout.  The  country  is  virgin  and  "  dese- 
crated "  only  by  prospecters  and  lumbermen  who  have  a  few 
camps  within  the  wilderness. 

The  grayling  is  not  quite  equal  in  actiyity  and  pluck  to. 
the  trout ;  neyertheless,  he  is  a  superb  game-fish  and  a  great 
acquisition  to  the  angler's  somewhat  limited  category.  It  is 
quite  as  shy  as  the  trout,  fully  as  critical  in  his  selection  of 
flies,  and  "  contrary"  about  taking  hold  at  times,  although 
the  fish  may  be  rising  all  around  the  vicinity.  The  average 
weight  in  the  Hersey  is  about  half  a  pound. 

As  to  the  trout  streams  of  Michigan,  all  those  running 
north  into  Traverse  Bay  and  all  around  the  shore  to  Presque 
Isle  on  Lake  Huron,  contain  the  beauties ;  but  they  are 
found  in  but  few  of  the  peninsula  streams,  if  any,  that  empty 
into  Lake  Huron  to  the  south  of  Thunder  Bay,  or  in  Lake 
Michigan  south  of  Grand  Haven  Bay. 


Note, — As  a  letter  from  Prof.  Agassiz  has  appeared  in  the  New 
York  Times,  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  specimens  of  this  grayling 
for  the  Museum  at  Cambridge,  I  am  disposed  to  give  a  brief  history 
of  its  discovery,  the  credit  of  which  properly  belongs  to  D.  H.  Fitz- 
hugh,  Jr.,  of  Bay  City,  to  whose  attention  it  was  brought  some  three 
years  ago.  Mr.  Fitzhugh  is  an  ardent  sportsman,  and  student  of 
natural  history.  Recognizing  at  once  the  value  of  the  discovery,  and 
anxious  to  establish  its  identity,  he  immediately  sent  specimens  to  Dr. 
Thaddeus  Norris,  of  Philadelphia,  and  Andrew  Clerke,  of  New  York, 
for  examination.  The  former  pronounced  it  the  "  English  Grayling," 
about  the  existence  of  which  in  this  country,  he  and  the  Hon.  Bob 
Roosevelt  had  quite  a  discussion.  Mr.  Gierke's  specimen  never  reached 
him ;  but,  last  year,  some  more  specimens  were  sent  to  him,  and  sub- 
mitted to  a  coterie  of  experts,  which  included  Dr.  Clerke,  Genio  C. 
Scott,  Jos.  Hart,  Messrs.  Abbey,  Hyde,  and  others.  The  fish  were  so 
decomposed,  however,  that  the  investigation  proved  quite  unsatisfac- 
tory. 

Here  the  question  rested  until  last  January,  no  conclusion  having 
been  arrived  at  in  the  meantime.  About  the  middle  of  the  month,  the 
author  of  this  book,  feeling  the  importance  of  making  it  wholly  reli- 


THE  MICHIGAN  PEKIKSULA.  209 

able  as  a  sporting  authority,  determined  to  settle  the  question  finally 
and  beyond  cavil.  Accordingly,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Fitzhugh,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  procuring  five  specimens.  These  were  speared  by  Indians 
through  the  ice  in  Hersey  Creek,  some  hundred  miles  distant  from 
Bay  City.  They  were  received  at  the  rooms  of  the  "  Blooming  Grove 
Park  Association,"  and  were  duly  submitted  to  several  English  gentle- 
men, who  were  familiar  with  the  fish  in  the  old  country.  They  were 
brought  also  to  the  notice  of  such  experts  as  Gierke,  Abbey,  McMartin, 
and  others,  who  united  in  the  opinion  that  they  were  the  true  Gray- 
ling. Afterwards  they  were  exhibited  on  a  platter  at  the  restaurant 
and  dining-room  of  which  Mr.  J,.  Sutherland  is  proprietor.  Two  were 
then  selected,  a  male  and  female,  which  Mr.  S.  kindly  packed  in  ice, 
and  forwarded  to  Prof.  Agassiz. 

The  satisfaction  of  those  who  had  so  long  labored  to  solve  the  prob- 
lem may  be  conceived,  when  the  following  letter  was  shown  them, 
corroborating  their  opinions,  and  defining  the  status  of  the  fish  among 
the  family  of  Graylings : 

Museum  of  CoMPAKArrrE  Zoology,  ) 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  Feb.  1, 1873.  J 
My  Dear  Sir  :  I  was  greatly  rejoiced,  yesterday,  to  receive  the  two  fishes  you 
were  kind  enough  to  send  me.  They  are  most  interesting,  and  a  grdat  acquisition 
to  our  museum.  Thus  far,  this  species  has  only  been  seen  by  one  American  natur- 
alist, Prof.  Cope,  of  Philadelphia,  who  described  it  under  the  name  of  Thymallus 
tricolor  {Thymallus  tricolor.)  It  is  a  species  of  Grayling.  Before  Prof.  Cope's 
discovery,  this  genus  of  fish  was  only  known  on  the  American  continent  from  the 
Arctic  regions,  about  Mackenzie  River,  where  it  had  been  discovered  by  Sir  John 
Frankxin.  You  may  judge  by  this  how  valuable  a  contribution  your  fish  is  to  our 
collection. 

Yours,  very  truly,  L.  AGASSIZ. 

J.  Sutherland,  Esq.,  No.  64  Liberty  Street,  New- York. 

This  letter  was  very  naturally  addressed  to  the  gentleman  who  for- 
warded the  fish,  though  the  Professor  greatly  erred  in  attributing  the 
credit  of  the  discovery  where  it  did  not  in  the  remotest  degree  belong. 

Other  specimens  of  the  same  fish  have  been  forwarded  to  Professor 
Baird,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute  at  Washington,  and  to  the  Acad- 
emy of  Natu^l  Sciences  at  Philadelphia. 

14 


THE    ^^BIG    WOODS. 


*  Big  Woods "  comprise  a  belt  of  Pine  forest 
r^^o^  thirty  miles  wide,  which  extends  for  three  hundred 
Q^^  miles  from  Lake  Superior  through  Wisconsin  into 
^y^  Iowa.  Considerable  portions  of  this  immense  pinery- 
are  owned  by  the  Fox  Kiver  Improvement  and  Black 
River  Log  Companies,  and  a  wealth  of  lumber  has  already 
been  taken  from  it.  Nevertheless,  there  are  sections  where 
the  axe  of  the  pioneer  has  never  entered,  and  where  the 
hunter  alone  intrudes  upon  the  haunts  of  the  bear,  the  wolf, 
and  the  deer.  Its  principal  water-courses  are  the  St.  Croix, 
Chippewa,  and  Black  Rivers,  with  their  almost  countless 
tributaries,  which  ramify  in  every  direction  and  penetrate 
where  even  surveyors  have  seldom  trod.  All  of  these  flow 
into  the  Mississippi  River,  and  are  remarkable  for  the  purity 
and  coldness  of  their  water  and  the  abundance  of  brook- 
trout  which  they  contain.  In  these  upper  streams  these 
speckled  beauties  alone  dwell,  uncontaminated*by  contact 
with  less  aristocratic  species  of  fish,  and  lamentably  ignorant 
of  the  wiles  and  devices  of  the  angler.  As  a  rule  they  are 
not  of  surprising  size,  seldom  exceeding  two  pounds  in 
weight ;  but  in  some  streams  they  run  uniformly  at  about 
one-half  a  pound,  which  is  a  pleasant  weight  for  a  light 
rod  and  finest  tackle.  Of  the  tributaries  of  the  St.  Croix, 
the  Apple  River,  Eau  Claire,  Tortogalie  and  Namekagon  are 


211 

the  best.  The  first  named  is  easily  accessible  from  the  yil-  ^ 
lage  of  New  Eichmond,  which  is  on  a  branch  of  the  "West 
Wisconsin  Railroad  that  diverges  from  Hudson  on  the  St.  ~ 
Croix  River.  The  Black  River  has  many  nameless  tribu- 
taries, all  stocked  with  trout,  which  are  reached  by  wagon 
from  Black  River  Falls,  on  the  West  Wisconsin  Railroad.  Of 
the  tributaries  of  the  Chippewa  I  have  fished  very  many, 
starting  from  Prescott  on  the  Mississippi,  taking  a  wagon 
road  across  an  intervening  prairie  to  the  "  Big  Woods,"  and 
then  following  the  logging  roads  that  traverse  the  wilderness 
in  all  directions.  Many  others  are  more  easily  reached  from 
■  Menominee  on  the  West  Wisconsin  Railroad.  At  present 
this  is  the  only  railroad  that  crosses  any  part  of  this  region. 
The  Eau  Galle,  Menominee,  and  Vermillion  Rivers,  afford 
rare  sport.  The  scenery  of  the  former  is  very  grand  in  some 
parts.  The  river  winds  through  deep  gorges,  whose  precipi- 
tous sides  are  one  hundred  feet  high.  On  their  tops  tower  a 
forest  of  pines,  whose  roots  are  far  ^  above  the  tops  of  other 
pines  that  grow  from  the  crevices  in  the  cliff  beneath.  Here 
and  there  a  blasted  trunk,  riven  byhghtning  or  thrown  down 
by  the  tempest,  hangs  by  its  shattered  fibres,  and  threatens 
to  drop  momentarily  into  the  chasm  below.  Other  splendid 
trout  streams  are  the  Kinnikinnik,  Willow  Creek,  Big  River, 
and  Rush  River,  all  situated  in  Pierce  and  St.  Croix  counties, 
and  emptying  into  the  Mississippi  in  the  vicinity  of  Lake 
Pepin. 

Our  camp  on  the  Eau  Galle  is  about  sixty  miles  east  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  our  route  hither  runs  for  the  first  twenty-five 
miles  through  a  fertile  undulating  tract,  dotted  with  thrifty 
farms.  Then  it  crosses  some  twenty  miles  of  rolling  prairie 
brilliant  with  flowers  of  countless  hues,  dotted  here  and 
there  with  little  groves  or  perchance  a  single  tree  standing 
alone  in  its  solitude,  threaded  with  sparkling  streamlets 
whose  courses,  however  distant,  are  defined  by  the  willows 
and  elders  that  fringe  their  borders,  and  diversified  by  an 
occasional  log-cabin  surrounded  by  numerous  bams  and  hay- 


212  THE   "BIG   WOODS." 

stacks.  Then  we  leave  the  open  country  ^nd  the  outposts  of 
civihzation,  and  strike  into  the  forest,  thick,  tangled,  dark, 
and  sombre.  In  the  course  of  our  journey  we  haye  passed 
numerous  jagged  cliff  mounds,  which  constitute  an  inter- 
esting feature  of  this  section.  One  might  imagine  that 
Wisconsin  was  most  abundantly  fortified.,  and  that  a  redoubt 
was  perched  on  every  hill,  so  striking  is  the  resemblance  that 
most  of  these  bear  to  works  of  art  and  military  defences. 
These  cliffs  are  composed  of  a  stratum  of  limestone  under- 
laid with  stratified  sand-rock  of  the  purest  whiteness,  and 
crop  out  from  the  hillside  with  singular  regularity,  a  little 
below  the  top  and  generally  on  the  southern  or  eastern  side. 
The  strata,  crossed  by  transverse  seams,  give  the  whole  the 
resemblance  of  walls  of  hewn  stone,  while  the  mound  itself, 
being  destitute  of  trees  and  apparently  smooth  as  a  terrace, 
renders  the  illusion  still  more  complete.  The  most  singular 
of  these  is  "  Monument  Eock,"  a  huge  pillar  fifty  feet  high, 
which  stands  alone  in  the  prairie,  the  earth  around  it  having 
been  washed  away. 

As  may  be  imagined,  the  "Big  Woods"  is  the  paradise  of 
hunters.  Here  and  there  through  the  forest,  the  old  "  coons" 
have  their  shanties,  and  large  are  the  packs  of  pelts  which  they 
often  carry  out  to  the  settlements  at  the  close  of  the  winter's 
hunt.  Even  now  one  of  the  craft  is  seen  to  emerge  stealth- 
ily from  concealing  brush,  with  a  saddle  of  venison  slung 
on  his  shoulders,  and  approach  the  camp.  He  says  his 
shanty  is  miles  away,  and  begs  to  tarry  for  the  night.  With 
permission  granted,  he  heaves  his  burden  upon  the  grass,  and 
squats  comfortably  beside  the  fire,  seeking  the  thickest  of  the 
smoke  that  rolls  from  a  zone  of  "  smudges  "  which  have  been 
made  to  keep  off  the  diabolical  flies  and  ever-to-be-intensely- 
anathametized  musquitoes.  We  are  just  upon  the  eve  of  a 
repast.  All  around  us  our  stores,  provisions,  utensils,  etc., 
lie  scattered,  and  convenient  for  use ;  wet  clothes  and  musty 
boots  hang  on  sticks  to  dry ;  camp-stuff  is  strewn  promis- 
cuously about.    Upon  the  coalf=,  old  Tick,  a  veteran,  is  frying 


THE   "BIG  WOODS."  213 

trout  and  ham ;  Jim  is  plucking  the  feathers  from 
a  partridge ;  Sam,  with  wettest  side  turned  toward  the  fire,  is 
recounting  his  day's  experience ;  the  dog  sits  on  his  haunches, 
whining  his  impatience ;  while  the  hunter-guest  is  by  this 
time  stretched  full  length  upon  the  ground,  puffing  huge 
clouds  of  tobacco-smoke  that  yie  with  the  "smudges",  for 
density.  From  one  corner  of  his  half-closed  eyelids  he 
silently,  yet  quizzically,  regards  the  plucking  process.  Once 
or  twice  he  moyes  nervously,  as  though  about  to  rise ;  but  it 
is  not  until  he  has  seen  the  last  pin-feather  singed  from  the 
bare  body  of  the  bird,  that  his  modesty  permits  him  to  ex- 
press his  feelings. 

"  Look  yere  now — what's  the  sort  of  use  o'  spilin'  good  Tit- 
tles that-away  ?  Can't  you  see  the  bird  aint  ho  account  after 
it's  been  burnt  to  a  cinder  in  the  fire  ?  Go  yonder  to  the 
creek  and  bring  me  a  peck  of  clay  from  the  bank,  and  I'll 
show  yer  how  to  cook  a  bird." 

While  Jim  obeys  orders,  though  not  without  some  sensa- 
tions of  injured  dignity  and  incredulity  combined,  the  old 
hunter  takes  another  partridge  and  whips  off  the  legs  and 
wings  at  the  second  joints.  Then  he  raises  the  body-feathers 
with  his  fingers,  and  haying  inlaid  them  with  an  abundance 
of  salt  and  pepper,  gently  strokes  them  back  again.  When 
the  clay  is  brought,  he  kneads  it  with  water  to  the  consis- 
tency of  stiff  paste,  and  then  plasters  it  all  oyer  the  bird 
thickly  until  it  resembles  a  huge  dumpling.  Four  others  he 
treats  in  the  same  manner.  These  preliminaries  concluded, 
he  selects  the  hottest  bed  of  coals,  and  raking  out  a  hollow, 
puts  the  dumplings  in  and  coyers  them  carefully. 

"  There,  I  reckon  that'll  take  the  shine  off  country  cook- 
in'.  Now,  sling  your  yittles  smartly,  for  I'm  right  near  the 
starving  point,  I'll  just  allow.  When  we've  put  away  this 
deer  meat  and  pork  fixins,  you'll  find  them  air  birds  wont 
turn  your  stomicks  much.    You  kin  jist  reckon  on  that." 

Not  much  persuasion  does  it  require  to  bring  the  company 
to  their  diet.    For  although  the  food  is  not  over  clean,  or 


214  THE  "BIG   WOODS." 

nicely  cooked,  hunger  is  a  sauce  that  Soyer  or  Blot  could 
neyer  invent  a  substitute  for.  When  the  edge  of  their  appe- 
tite is  taken  off,  the  coals  are  lifted.  The  dumplings,  now 
hardened  to  the  semblance  of  stones,  are  carefully  broken 
open,  when  lo!  the  birds  appear  divested  of  every  particle  of 
skin  and  feather,  smoking  hot,  with  their  delicate  white 
flesh  fairly  reeking  with  the  rich  juices  which  had  been  con- 
fined by  their  unbroken  skins  while  encased  in  their  clay 
matrices ;  but  which  tricMe  out  as  soon  as  the  shells  are 
broken.  The  investigation  of  the  cooking  did  not  belie  the 
old  hunter's  assurances  of  its  excellence.  Never  were  more 
delicious  morsels  eaten.  Epicures  would  have  gone  wild 
over  such  a  new  discovery  in  the  cuisine.  The  tonne  bouches 
were  pronouncetl  incomparable.  The  stomach  and  intestines 
were  shriveled  to  a  hard  ball,  and  were  as  easilj  removed  as 
the  kernel  of  a  nut.  So  far  from  impairing  the  flavor  of  the 
meat,  it  was  adjudged  that  their  retention  imparted  an  ad- 
ditional relish  to  it  When  all  had  finished  their  birds  and 
thrown  the  bones  to  the  dog,  they  expressed  themselves 
satisfied,  and  each  wiped  his  well-used  knife  upon  his  sleeve, 
and  returned  it  to  its  case.  Then  pipe  devotions  followed. 
I  suppose  there  is  no  gratification  more  exquisite  to  smokers 
than  a  good  smoke  after  a  full  meal,  all  the  conditions  of 
weather,  bodily  comfort,  and  temperament  being  favorable. 
But  especially  is  it  grateful  in  the  stillness  of  a  forest-camp, 
with  the  fire  blazing  brightly  and  throwing  its  warmth  and 
ruddy  light  full  into  one's  face,  the  stars  twinkling  in  the 
blue  canopy  above,  and  sleep  resting  drowsily  upon  the 
senses.  It  begets  that  positive  repose  which  nature  demands 
for  relaxed  muscles  and  tried  nerves.  One  can  endure  the 
attacks  of  mosquitoes  and  flies  complacently  then,  for  he 
realizes  that  in  gratifying  himself  he  is  embarrassing  the 
movements  of  the  enemy. 

Ah !  this  pest,  this  inevitable  pest  of  the  sportsman  and 
detractor  from  his  happiness !  We  hear  all  about  the  poetry 
of  trout-fishing,  but  very  little  of  its  stem  actualities.    We 


215 

read  of  pleasant  pools,  refresliing  shade,  and  tumbling  foam, 
but  who  has  courage  to  tell  us  all  the  truth  of  these  blood- 
thirsty little  fiends,  the  flies  and  mosquitoes?  Who  has 
ever  dared  to  paint  the  picture  in  its  true  colors  ?  Is  it  that 
men  are  ashamed  to  make  the  confession,  or  because  they 
fear  some  future  retribution  from  the  malignant  foes  they 
can  neither  avoid  nor  kill  ?  Or  do  they  expect  to  purchase 
lasting  immunity  by  silence  ?  Certain  it  is,  these  insects 
sadly  mar  the  charms  of  anghng.  Here  we  actually  breathe 
them.  They  rise  in  clouds  at  every  step.  They  haunt  us 
perpetually.  It  is  impossible  to  live  without  protection  for 
the  body.  Horses  will  stand  in  the  smoke  for  relief.  They 
will  stand  to  their  necks  in  sloughs.  We  cover  our  faces 
with  finest  gauze;  we  protect  our  hands  with  buckskin 
gloves;  we  tie  our  trousers  tightly,  and  thrust  them  into 
our  cowhide  boots.  In  vain!  In  the  excitement  of  our 
pastime  we  may  be  unconscious  for  the  time  being  of  suffer- 
ing or  infliction,  but  presently  the  pain  and  irritation  come, 
the  irremediable  heat  and  the  swelhng,  the  useless  scratch- 
ing and  the  trickling  of  blood  from  tender  spots.  The 
hands  pufi*  up  like  bladders ;  eyes  close ;  neck  and  ears  swell 
to  deformity.  We  find  the  pests  inside  our  boots,  all  round 
our  wrists,  and  even  in  our  smarting  eyes.  All  day  long  the 
black  flies  torture  and  torment,  and  when  night  comes  the 
mosquitoes  are  doubly  savage.  All  through  the  long  and 
feverish  evening,  and  through  the  small  hours  of  night,  our 
tired  bodies  seek  for  rest  and  sweet  repose;  and  our  un- 
ceasing lullaby  is,  the  droning  and  everlasting  hum  of  the 
remorseless  myriads — swarms  that  dim  and  becloud  the  fight 
of  the  stars  which  would  otherwise  shine  pleasantly  in  our 
eyes,  as  recumbent  and  meditating  we  gaze  upward  into  the 
blue  canopy  above  us.  There  is  only  one  preventive  of 
tribulation.  As  I  have  already  repeatedly  enjoined— rtake 
plenty  of  tar  and  oil.    It  will  be  efiicacious,  I  guarantee. 

The  routine  of  camp-life,  its  incidents  and  vexations,  form 
so  large  a  part  of  the  angler's  experience  that  it  is  impos- 


216  THE  "BIG  WOODS." 

sible  to  eliminate  them,  and  write  of  angling  pure  and  sim- 
ple. I  might  go  on  and  enumerate  each  individual  brook 
and  rivulet  that  I  have  fished  in  these  "  Big  Woods,"  and 
photograph  its  minutest  features :  tell  where  this  still  water 
tumbles  into  a  ravine,  or  where  that  rapid  deepens  and 
widens  into  a  pool.  I  might  even  presume  to  offer  an  opin- 
ion as  to  the  kinds  of  flies  that  different  streams  and  varying 
seasons  require  to  insure  a  plenitude  of  rich  success.  But  all 
these  minutiae  would  only  tend  to  confuse  the  reader.  I 
have  told  him  where  some  of  the  best  streams  are ;  and  now 
I  prefer  that  he  would  imagine  himself  in  camp  with  me  on 
the  limpid  Eau  Galle,  along  whose  channel-bed  we  have 
been  leaping  rocks  all  day,  and  wading  till  our  limbs  were 
numb.  With  warm  clothes  substituted  for  our  wet  ones, 
and  our  legs  thawed  out  once  more,  we  will  quietly  toss 
a  fresh  log  on  the  fire,  and  make  a  royal  blaze.  While  our 
comrades  are  unconscious  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus,  we  will 
revel  in  its  warmth  for  a  brief  half  hour.  Let  us  set  the 
kettle  a  boiling,  and  with  sugar,  nutmeg,  and  a  spoon  con- 
coct a  soothing  sling.  Now  drink  it  slowly.  Eemark  how 
gradually  its  genial,  vivifying  warmth  courses  through  the 
veins,  lulHng  the  senses,  closing  the  eyelids  slowly,  repressing 
thoughts  and  consciousness,  composing  to  rest.  There !  now 
gather  the  glowing  embers  together,  draw  your  rubber  blan- 
ket snugly  to  your  chin,  pull  down  the  rim  of  your  soft  felt- 
hat  closely  around  your  face  and  ears,  commend  yourself  to 
Him  whose  love  protects,  and  then — sleep !  In  the  solitude 
of  these  silent,  sheltering  woods  is  absolute  security.  The 
midnight  stars  are  keeping  watch ;  a  doleful  cricket  chirps 
betimes ;  and  out  of  the  distant  gloom  come  the  hollow 
melancholy  ululations  of  an  owl. 

Thus  we  measure  out  one  little  span  of  life  in  these  "  Big 
Woods." 


THE    PACIFIC    SLOPE 


^ROM  Lake  Superior  to  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  there  is  a  belt  of  territory  about  three 
hundred  miles  wide,  extending  through  Minnesota 
and  Dacotah,  and  westward,  which  seems  to  have 
been  segregated  to  the  black  bass  ( Oristes  nigri- 
cans). Few  trout  are  caught  between  the  Minnesota  or  St. 
Peter's  River,  and  the  northern  boundary  of  the  United 
States ;  but  the  country  abounds  in  lakes  which  swarm  with 
bass.  This  glorious  game-fish  exists  here  in  its  fuU  perfection 
of  size,  beauty  and  activity.  It  is  taken  with  "the  troll  or  fly. 
Within  a  radius  of  twenty-five  miles  around  the  new  town 
of  Brainard,  Minnesota,  on  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad, 
are  numerous  lakes,  easily  accessible  from  Duluth,  which 
afford  the  very  best  of  sport,  though  waters  equally  well 
stocked  are  found  all  through  the  country. 

The  Rocky  Mountains  are  traversed  everywhere  by  trout 
streams ;  and  the  overland  tourist  who  is  incUned  to  spend 
the  months  of  July  and  August  among  th'eir  peaks  and 
defiles  and  magnificent  upland  parks,  can  hardly  cast  his 
line  amiss  in  any  of  them.  In  the  vicinity  of  Sherman,  on 
the  line  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railway,  550  miles  west  of 
Omaha,  the  trout-fishing  is  equal  to  amy  on  the  road.  Dale 
Creek,  a  tributary  of  the  Cache-a-la-Poudre  River,  and  other 
streams  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  abound  in  trout  of 


218  THE  PACIFIC   SLOPE. 

the  finest  quality,  and  weighing  from  a  quarter  of  a  pound 
to  two  pounds  each ;  their  flesh  is  as  hard  and  white  as  that 
of  the  mountain-trout  of  Vermont.  Even  the  tiniest  rivulets 
swarm  with  them.  Fifteen  miles  beyond  Sherman,  at  Vir- 
ginia Dale,  the  Dale  Creek  traverses  a  caiion  whose  walls  are 
600  feet  high,  and  the  adjacent  scenery  is  wonderfully 
diversified  by  grottoes,  gorges,  dells,  canons,  precipices, 
towering-peaks,  and  rugged  recesses.  Antelope,  elk,  black- 
tailed  deer,  bears,  sage-hens,  and  grouse,  abound  in  the  hills 
and  on  the  plateaus.  There  is  excellent  hotel  accommoda- 
tion for  the  sportsman.  Within  a  radius  of  twenty-five 
miles  from  Sherman  are  many  natural  curiosities  and  points 
of  interest,  including  Old  Fort  Laramie,  which  render  a 
sojourn  here  yery  attractive ;  and  doubtless  this  locality  will 
soon  become  a  favorite  summer  resort  for  tourists  and  anglers. 
The  Black  Hills  flank  the  valley  on  one  side,  and  the  Eocky 
Mountain  ranges  upon  the  other.  Lake  Como  and  the 
Medicine  Bow  Eiver,  seventy-five  miles  farther  west,  abound 
in  trout.  At  Fort  Bridger,  a  few  miles  from  Carter  Station, 
there  is  a  good  hotel,  kept  by  Judge  Carter,  good  fishing, 
and  guides  at  service.  Bear  River  arid  Bear  Lake,  in  Utah, 
are  reached  by  stage  from  Corinne  or  Ogden  Stations.  A 
small  steamer  plies  on  the  river  and  lake,  taking  passengers 
and  excursion  parties  to  various  points.  Echo  Creek,  Chalk 
Creek,  Silver  Creek,  and  Weber  River,  are  accessible  from 
Echo  City,  and  combine  rare  fishing  and  hunting  with  the 
grand  scenery  of  the  Echo  and  Weber  Caflons.  '  Maggie's 
Creek,  and  many  other  tributaries  of  the  Humboldt  River, 
abound  in  trout,  and  may  be  easily  reached  from  Carlin  and 
neighboring  stations.  But,  to  specify  names  or  localities  to 
any  great  extent,  would  require  a  knowledge  of  the  country 
possessed  only  by  some  old  "  mountain  man "  or  geological 
surveyor.  It  will  consume  many  weeks  to  exhaust  the 
novelty  and  attractions  of  the  few  already  named  herewith, 
and  they  are  the  very  best  on  the  line  of  the  road. 

Very  different  to-day  is  the  journey  to  California  from  the 


THE  PACIFIC  SLOPE.  219 

old-time  wagon  travel  of  twenty  years  ago.  The  Overland 
Coaches  were  not  running  then,  and  it  was  as  much  as  a 
man's  "  har  "  was  worth  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  predatory 
Indians.*  A  few  days'  ride  in  a  Pullman  car,  with  every 
luxury  at  command,  will  take  one  across  the  "  Divide  "  to 
the  Pacific  slope.  Luxuriating  there  in  an  arcadia  of  hound- 
less  extent,  with  a  climate  of  wonderful  salubrity,  the  angler 
can  unfold  a  revelation  of  new  experiences  startling  in  their 
magnitude  ^nd  sublimity.  The  scenery  of  California  has 
formed  the  inexhaustible  theme  of  every  person  who  has 
traveled  that  way ;  and  if  it  be  that  the  tourist  is  impelled 
by  an  angler's  impulses,  as  well  as  by  an  innate  love  of 
nature,  he  will  find  his  way  to  virgin  lakes  and  streams 
where  artificial  fly  has  never  trailed,  and  whose  silvery  trout 
have  no  suspicion  of  wiles  or  stratagems.  Of  those  waters 
adjacent  to  and  accessible  from  the  railroad,  may  be  men- 
tioned Truckee  Lake  and  Kiver,  with  their  five-pound  black- 
trout  ;  the  Ogden  Kiver,  three  miles  from  Ogden  city,  with 
its  black-trout,  and  its  silver-trout,  that  sometimes  weigh 
twenty  pounds  apiece ;  Donner  Lake,  two  miles  and  a  half 
from  Truckee  Lake,  a  beautiful  bottomless  lake,  three  miles 
long  by  one  mile  wide,  with  black  and  silver  trout ;  Lake 
Tahoe,  nine  miles  from  Truckee,  black  and  silver  trout 
again;  with  the  grand  preserve  of  the  Comer  Company, 
stocked  with  its  2,500  black-trout,  weighing  from  two  to 
twelve  pounds  apiece ;  and  so  on,  almost  ad  nauseam,  so 
abundant  and  large  are  the  fish.  But  the  game  is  sluggish, 
and  not  like  the  lithe,  active  denizens  of  the  Keepigon  or  the 
Tabusintac ;  and  one's  desire  soon  cloys.  Then  there  is  the 
Eussian  Kiver,  near  Healdsburg,  that  has  a  variety  of  more 
vigorous  trout,  much  like  the  speckled  trout  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  doubtless  identical  with  it ;  and  the  Merced  Kiver,  in 
the  Yosemite  Valley,  with  a  very  peculiar  chubby-trout, 
marked  with  curious  spots,  and  a  coral  lateral  line  from  gill 

*  See  Harper's  Magazine,  Vol.  XV.,  page  638. 


220  THE  PACIFIC   SLOPE. 

to  tail.  Most  of  these  waters  are  much  frequented  by  resi- 
dents of  San  Francisco,  Sacramento,  and  other  sea-board 
towns,  as  well  as  by  travelers.  Their  superabundant  fish 
afford  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  food  to  numerous  Digger 
Indians,  unkempt  and  squalid,  who  lure  them  by  disgusting 
tricks  and  low-bred  subterfuges.  A  favorite  mode  of  fishing 
is  to  "  chum  "  them  by  blowing  mouthsful  of.  bait  into  the 
water,  and  when  numbers  have  been  attracted  to  the  spot, 
catch  them  with  rude  tackle  baited  with  worms  or  cut-up- 
fish.  At  night  they  often  set  an  old  stump  ablaze  by  the 
water-side  to  allure  their  victims,  and  then  the  scene  is 
picturesque  indeed,  wjth  the  lurid  glare  lighting  up  the 
darkness,  and  casting  fantastic  shadows  upon  the  back- 
ground. 

California  has  a  sea-coast  line  of  nearly  eight  hundred 
miles.  Erom  the  Coast  Eange  of  mountains,  which  adjoins 
the  coast  line  for  the  greater  part  of  this  distance,  nearly 
one  hundred  rivers  and  streams  empty  into  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  These  streams  and  rivers  vary  from  twenty  to  sixty 
miles  in  length.  The  drainage  of  the  western  slope  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  through  seven  degrees  of  latitude,  forms  sev- 
eral hundred  streams,  whose  united  waters  make  the  Sacra- 
mento and  San  Joaquin  Kivers — the  first  navigable  for  a 
distance  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles,  and  the  last  nav- 
igable one  hundred  miles  from  the  ocean.  The  waters  from 
the  eastern  slope  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  flow  into  brackish 
and  salt  lakes  in  the  State  of  Nevada,  and  have  no  outlet 
into  the  ocean.  Pyramid  Lake,  the  largest  of  these,  receiving 
the  waters  of  the  Truckee  Eiver,  is  forty  miles  long  and 
twenty  miles  wide.  The  inland  bays  and  fresh-water  lakes 
of  California  cover  more  than  six  hundred  and  fifty  square 
miles — an  area  half  as  large  as  the  State  of  Ehode  Island. 

Salmon  are  abundant  in  the  Sacramento  and  the  Joaquin, 
and  were  formerly  plenty  in  the  Feather,  Yuba,  and  Ameri- 
can Rivers.  In  the  first  two  they  have  materially  decreased 
of  late  years,  while  in  the  others  they  have  ceased  to  run 


THE   PACIFIC   SLOPE.  221 

altogether,  haying  probahly  been  driven  out  by  the  poison- 
ous drainage  from  the  mines  along  their  borders.  Trout  are 
'found  in  nearly  all  the  streams  that  discharge  into  the 
Pacific  Ocean  from  the  Coast  Eange  of  mountains,  and  in 
the  greater  number  of  the  mountain  streams  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada.  They  vary  greatly  in  size  and  appearance  in  differ- 
ent waters,  and  at  different  seasons;  but  so  far  no  variety 
is  exactly  similar  to  any  of  the  brook-trout  of  the  New 
England  States.  The  large  brown  and  silver  trout  of  Lake 
Tahoe  and  the  Truckee  Eiver  are  pronounced  by  Mr.  Seth 
Green  not  to  be  trout,  but  species  of  the  land-locked  salmon. 
These  fish  make  annual  migrations  from  Lake  Tahoe  to  the 
brackish  waters  of  Pyramid  Lake.  Many  of  the  fishermen 
of  Tahoe  insist  that  the  so-called  silver-trout  does  not 
leave  the  lake ;  but,  as  they  are  occasionally  caught  in  the 
river,  it  is  probable  they  also  migrate,  but  perhaps  at  an  ear- 
lier or  later  season.  In  the  streams  of  the  Coast  Range  of 
mountains  the  trout  spawn  in  November  and  December;  in 
the  streams  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  in  March  and  April. 
There  are  no  trout  in  the  mountain  streams  above  large 
falls.  If  there  ever  were  trout  above  the  falls,  they  have 
passed  below  them  in  their  migrations  down  stream,  and  are 
debarred  from  returning. 

Of  good  trout  streams  on  the  coast  may  be  mentioned  the 
Gobethey  Creek,  two  miles  below  Spanishtown;  Lobetis 
Creek,  four  miles  below;  the  San  Gregoria,  which  is  fi-e- 
quented  by  salmon  also;  Pompona  Creek,  four  miles  from 
San  Gregoria ;  and  the  Pescadero,  a  confluent  of  the  Butena 
River,  the  latter  abounding  in  salmon  (so-called),  in 
such  quantities  that,  from  October  to  March,  wagon-loads 
of  fish  weighing  from  two  to  thirty  pounds  are  taken  daily 
and  sold  at  the  high  price  of  seventy-five  cents  per  pound. 

Great  complaint  is  made  of  the  depletion  of  lakes  and 
streams  by  the  erection  of  dams  and  the  refuse  of  factories 
which  poison  the  water :  the  same  old  story  of  the  Eastern 
States  repeated.    Waters  which  formerly  swarmed  with  fish 


222  THE   PACIFIC    SLOPE. 

are  now  wholly  impoverislied.  Since  the  creation  of  a  Fish- 
ery Commission  by  the  State,  its  officers  have  not  ceased  in 
their  efforts  to  stay  the  destruction.  They  have  restocked* 
some  of  the  streams  with  native  and  imported  fish,  estab- 
lished breeding  works,  and  caused  'some  passes  to  be  made 
over  dams.  Although  California  is  a  new  State,  the  work 
has  not  been  begun  one  moment  too  soon,  and  much  time 
will  be  required  to  repair  the  losses  already  incurred. 

Of  the  waters  of  the  North  Pacific,  tales  are  told  that 
would  seem  incredible,  were  they  not  confirmed  by  repeated 
and  most  reliable  assurances.  There  the  salmon  swarm  in 
countless  numbers.  They  spawn  all  the  year  round ;  and  at 
certain  periods  they  fill  the  rivers  of  the  Arctic  Ocean,  the 
rivers  of  Alaska,  the  Gulf  of  Georgia,  of  British  Columbia, 
Puget's  Sound,  and  all  the  tribntaries  of  the  Columbia  whose 
falls  are  not  insurmountable.  In  the  canons  and  contracted 
channels,  during  March  and  April,  they  so  crowd  the  rivers 
as  absolutely  to  impede  the  passage  of  canoes.  Indians, 
armed  with  long  poles  fitted  with  a  cross-piece,  through 
which  long  nails  are  driven,  resembling  rakes,  hang  over  the 
rocks  that  confine  the  river,  and  with  an  upy,^ard  jerk  impale 
as  many  fish  as  there  are  nails.  It  is  said  that  Seepays,  the 
Colville  Indian  salmon-chief,  who  has  a  monopoly  of  the  fish- 
ing at  the  Chaudi^re,  or  Kettle  Falls  of  the  Columbia, 
catches  1,700  per  day,  weighing  an  average  of  thirty  pounds 
apiece.  At  this  distance  of  700  or  800  miles  from  the  sea, 
they  have  become  so  exhausted  that, -in  their  efforts  to  leap 
the  falls,  they  batter  themselves  against  tj^e  rocks,  so  that 
they  fall  back  stunned,  and  often  dead;  they  then  float 
down  the  river  some  six  miles,  where  they  are  picked  up  by 
another  camp  of  Indians  who  do  not  belong  to  the  salmon- 
chief's  jurisdiction.  In  the  fall,  the  run  is  even  greater,  and 
the  river  is  filled  with  such  numbers  of  the  dead  floating  or 
cast  up  along  shore,  that  they  poison  the  atmosphere,  and 
cause  the  river  to  stink  for  miles!  In  the  head-waters, 
horses  and  pack-mules  fording  are  made  to  jump  and  plunge 


THE   PACIFIC   SLOPE.  223 

with  fright  by  the  fish  flapping  against  then-  legs !  Up  and 
down  a  distance  of  two  and  a  half  degrees  of  latitude,  the 
Indians  spear  and  net  "them  in  immense  quantities.  The 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  long  exported  them  largely,  smoked, 
dried,  and  pickled.  Salted  salmon  they  sold  at  $10  per  l^ar- 
rel,  for  shipment  to  China,  the  Sandwich  Islands,  and  the 
South  American  coast. 

Of  speckled  trout  in  the  cold  streams  that  flow  into  Puget's 
Sound,  there  is  no  end — even  of  ,6ight-pounders.  Not  only 
can  they  be  netted  by  the  wagon-load,  but  caught  by  the 
hand  by  wading  out  into  the  stream. 

It  has  been  generally  believed  that  the  salmon  of  the 
Pacific  never  rise  to  a  fly,  and  repeated  tests  by  expert 
anglers  have  failed  to  controvert  the  opinion.  Nevertheless, 
had  the  experiments  been  made  in  the  autumn,  instead  of 
the  summer  months  corresponding  to  the  fishing  season  on 
the  Atlantic  coast,  this  opinion  would  readily  have  been 
found  to  be  erroneous.  The  fact  is,  the  Pacific  salmon  can 
be  caught  with  the  fly  at  any  time  after  the  fall  rains  com- 
mence. 

When  the  great  railway  routes  now  reaching  toward 
the  Northwest — the  Canadian  Pacific,  the  Northern  Pacific, 
the  Oregon  and  Idaho  branch  of  the  Union  Pacific,  and 
the  California  and  Oregon,  from  Sacramento  to  Portland — 
when  these  are  completed,  the  great  Columbia  River  and  the 
rivers  of  Puget's  Sound  will  be  brought  within  easy  access. 
At  present  the  overland  journey  to  San  Francisco  and  thence 
by  steamer  to  Portland  and  Victoria,  Vancouver's  Island,  is 
not  tedious  or  difficult. 


BLOOMING    GROVE    PARK. 


T  has  been  ascertained  to  an  almost  mathematical 
nicety  that  it  will  cost  the  metropolitan  angler  one 
dollar  for  every  pound  of  trout  he  takes,  no  matter 
where  or  under  what  circumstances  he  fishes.  If 
he  go  to  trout  preserves  in  the  vicinity  of  the  cities,  he 
will  be  charged  a  dollar  per  pound  for  all  the  fish  he  catches, 
or  several  dollars  per  day  for  fish  that  he  may,  but  does  not 
catch.  Should  he  select  the  streams  or  ponds  within  one 
hundred  miles  or  so  of  town,  he  will  find  them  depleted  by 
much  fishing ;  and  the  expenses  of  his  journey  and  contin- 
gencies will  bring  the  cost  of  the  few  fish  he  takes  up  to  the 
inevitable  dollar  per  pound.  Or  should  he  prefer  remote 
localities  where  trout  can  not  only  be  had  for  the  catching, 
but  swarm  in  such  abundance  as  absolutely  to  embarrass  the 
angler,  the  measure  of  his  expenses  will  still  be  a  dollar  per 
pound.  At  the  same  time,  he  will  be  unable  to  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  bringing  his  fish  home,  or  even  of  eating  more 
than  a  few  of  them  on  the  spot.  The  same  conditions  are 
relatively  true  of  salmon,  or  any  other  description  of  genuine 
game-animals  or  game-fish.  If  the  angler  hire  a  river  in 
Labrador  or  Canada,  it  is  quite  probable  that  he  may  catch 
a  thousand  pounds  of  salmon  in  the  course  of  a  month's  fish- 
ing ;  but  the  price  of  his  lease  and  his  expenses  for  traveling, 
guides,  boat,  provisions,  outfit,  and  et  ceteras,  to  say  nothing  of 
time  consumed,  will  foot  up  a  dollar  per  pound.    Or,  if  he  go 


BLOOMING   GKOVE   PARK.  225 

down  to  Long  Island  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  capture  a 
dozen  pounds  of  trout  at  the  regulation  price  demanded  for 
the  privilege  of  fishing,  his  expenses  will  be  found  to  reach 
$12. 

This  is  the  high  tariff  at  present  imposed  upon  the  sports- 
man's indulgence.  The  only  way  to  cheapen  his  amusement 
is  to  "  encourage  home  industry,"  and  make  fish  abundant 
in  all  neighborhood  localities.  Pisciculturists  have  accom- 
plished much  toward  re-stocking  exhausted  and  depleted 
waters,  but  their  efforts  have  not  yet  been  productive  of  im- 
portant economic  results.  The  work  of  propagation  has  not 
been  sufficiently  diffused  over  the  country  to  reduce  the  mar- 
ket price  of  trout,  or  place  good  fishing-grounds  within  easy 
and  inexpensive  access  of  the  public. 

The  "  Blooming  Grove  Park  Association,"  so  far  as  its  own 
territory  is  concerned,  has  fulfilled  both  of  these  conditions. 
It  has  a  domain  of  more  than  12,000  acres  within  a  few 
hours'  ride  of  New  York  city  by  the  Erie  Eailroad,  where  its 
members  may  not  only  fish,  but  hunt,  ad  lihitum,  free  of 
charge.  The  sportsman  may  leave  New  York,  or  any  other 
adjacent  city,  and  in  twenty-four  hours  return  with  a  saddle 
of  venison,  a  bag  of  birds,  or  a  basket  of  trout.  To  active 
business  men  whose  time  is  precious,  this  is  an  advantage 
worthy  of  consideration.  Every  year,  there  are  many  gentle- 
men of  sporting  proclivities,  with  but  a  week  to  spare,  who 
are  compelled  to  forego  their  favorite  pastime,  because  the 
ordinary  hunting  resorts  are  so  distant  that  they  have  no 
sooner  reached  the  ground  and  got  fairly  to  work,  than  they  are 
compelled  to  pack  up  and  return.  Recognizing  these  disabili- 
ties, and  appreciating  the  necessity  of  more  accessible  sporting- 
grounds,  two  gentlemen  of  New  York,  well  known  to  sports- 
men and  the  public  generally,  Fayette  S.  Giles,  Esq.,  and 
Genio  0.  Scott,  Esq.,  some  three  years  ago  conceived  the 
idea  of  providing  a  grand  park  or  inclosure  within  a  reason- 
able distance  of  New  York,  where  game  might  be  bred  and 
protected  as  it  is  in  Europe  in  the  grand  forests  of  Fontaine- 
15 


226  BLOOMIKG   GROVE   PARK. 

bleau  and  the  Grand  Duchy  of  Baden.  Both  gentlemen 
had  the  necessary  knowledge  and  experience  to  guide  them 
in  their  undertaking,  Mr.  Giles  having  been  a  resident  of 
France  for  six  years,  and  engaged  actively  in  field  sports, 
both  in  the  forests  of  Fontainebleau  and  in  Germany,  while 
Mr.  Scott  has  always  been  regarded  good  authority  in 
matters  piscatorial,  and  is  well  known  as  the  author  of 
"  Fishing  in  American  Waters." 

Great  difficulty  was  experienced  in  finding  a  sufficiently 
large  tract  of  land  anywhere  near  New  York  that  contained 
the  necessary  requisites  of  stream,  lake,  upland,  lowland,  and 
forest ;  but  at  last  a  spot  was  found  perfectly  suited  to  the 
purpose  in  Pike  county,  in  the  extreme  north-eastern  por- 
tion of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania.  Here  fine  streams  were 
found  running  through  pleasant  valleys,  eight  beautiful  lakes 
were  within  easy  walking  distance  of  each  other,  and  a  range 
of  high  wooded  hills  crossed  the  southern  end  of  the  tract. 
To  add  to  the  advantages  and  attractions  of  the  country, 
deer  were  already  found  in  the  woods  in  great  numbers,  and 
woodcock,  ruffed-grouse  and  wild  pigeons  were  met  with  at 
every  turn.  The  streams  were  already  stocked  with  splendid 
trout,  and  the  tract  seemed  really  a  sportsman's  paradise. 
One  of  its  greatest  advantages  was  its  proximity  to  New 
York,  being  distant  from  the  city  only  four  and  a  half  hours 
by  the  Erie  Railroad ;  and  the  sportsmen  who  had  conceived 
the  idea  of  establishing  an  American  Fontainebleau,  saw  at 
once  that  they  had  found  the  proper  location  for  it.  About 
twelve  thousand  acres  of  land  were  purchased,  and  in  such  a 
form  as  tp  include  all  the  finest  of  the  lakes,  the  mountain- 
ous country,  and  the  best  of  the  streams,  the  entire  property 
being  located  in  the  townships  of  Blooming  Grove,  Porter, 
and  Greene.  It  was  at  once  decided  to  form  a  club  of 
gentlemen  fond  of  sporting  for  the  purpose  of  improving, 
stocking,  and  enclosing  the  tract.  The  result  was  the  incor- 
poration, in  March,  1871,  of  the  "Blooming  Grove  Park 
Association." 


I 


BLOOMIKG   GKOVE  PARE.  -  227 

This  Association  now  includes  about  one  hundred  members 
from  a  dozen  different  States,  principally  married  men  with 
families.  It  has  a  large  new  club-house  or  hotel,  romanti- 
cally located  upon  the  borders  of  one  of  the  larger  lakes,  a 
boat-house  and  boats,  Indian  canoes,  etc.,  croquet  lawns  and 
other  recreation  for  the  ladies,  summer-houses,  a  natural 
history  and  zoological  department,  with  several  live  speci- 
mens, bathing-grounds,  etc.  In  short,  the  "park"  is  a 
summer  resort  of  the  most  classical  and  high-toned  character, 
combining  all  the  ordinary  attractions  of  watering-places 
witk  the  main  objects  for  which  the  Association  was  insti- 
tuted. Members  pay  the  almost  nominal  sum  of  $1.25  per 
day  for  board,  and  the  whole  economy  of  the  park  is  so  con- 
trived as  to  secure  the  greatest  amount  of  gratification  and 
profit  at  the  least  possible  expense.  Cottages  may  be  erected 
and  occupied  by  those  who  prefer  not  to  board  at  the  hotel. 

The  primary  objects  of  this  Association  are  the  importing, 
acclimating,  propagating,  and  preserving  of  all  game  animals, 
fur-bearing  animals,  birds,  and  fishes  adapted  to  the  climate ; 
the  affording  of  facilities  for  hunting,  shooting,  fishing  and 
boating  to  members  on  their  own  grounds ;  the  establishment 
of  minkeries,  otteries,  aviaries,  etc. ;  the  supplying  of  the  spawn 
of  fish,  young  fish,  game  animals,  or  birds,  to  other  associations 
or  to  individuals ;  the  cultivation  of  forests ;  and  the  selling 
of  timber  and  surplus  game  of  all  kinds  ;^in  a  word,  to  give 
a  fuller  development  to  field,  aquatic  and  turf  sports,  and  to 
compensate  in  some  degree  for  the  frightful  waste  which  is 
annually  devastating  our  forests  and  exterminating  our 
game. 

There  is  no  personal  liability  on  the  part  of  any  member 
or  officer  of  the  Association  for  the  debts  or  liabilities  of  the 
Association,  but  the  property  of  the  corporation  is  hable  for 
its  debts,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  property  of  individuals 
under  the  laws  of  the  State.  The  capital  stock  is  $225,000, 
consisting  of  500  shares  of  $450  per  share ;  each  share  con- 
stituting full  membership,  with  all   club  privileges,   and 


228  ^  BLOOMII^G   GKOVE   PARK. 

carrying  pro  rata  ownership  in  the  property  and  all  its 
improvements.  The  capital  may  be  increased  to  $500,000, 
by  increasing  the  land  held  in  fee,  and  the  Association  is 
empowered  to  acquire,  by  gift  or  otherwise,  and  hold  lands 
in  Pike  and  Monroe  counties  in  Pennsylvania,  not  to  exceed 
thirty  thousand  acres,  and  may  lease,  hire  and  use  neighbor- 
ing lands  to  the  extent  of  twenty  thousand  acres,  making 
the  right  to  control  fifty  thousand.  And  the  Association 
may  issue  bonds,  sell,  convey,  mortgage  or  lease  any  or  all 
its  property,  real  or  personal,  from  time  to  time.  The  cor- 
poration makes  its  own  game  laws.  The  penalties  for  poach- 
ing are  defined  in  the  charter,  and  are  very  severe.  For 
instance,  for  taking  fish^  the  fines  are  $2  for  every  fish,  and 
$5  per  pound  in  addition;  elk  or  moose,  $300;  deer,  $40 
each,  etc. ;  so,  also,  for  setting  fire  or  damaging  any  property 
of  the  Association.  The  gamekeepers  or  wardens  are  made 
deputy-sheriffs  and  constables,  with  power  to  arrest  poachers 
or  any  person  infringing  the  laws  of  the  corporation. 

A  great  amount  of  work  has  been  done  by  the  Association 
during  the  two  years  of  its  existence.  In  addition  to  the 
erection  of  a  most  attractive  club-house,  eighty  feet  long  and 
three  and  a  half  stories  high,  with  an  extension,  it  has  put 
up  a  large  boat-house ;  built  a  dam  to  raise  a  lake  five  feet ; 
enclosed  700  acres  t)f  forest  with  a  deer-proof  wire  fence  eight 
feet  high,  and  stocked  it  with  deer ;  built  a  commodious 
game-keeper's  and  refreshment  house  therein ;  stocked  three 
of  the  large  lakes  with  black  bass  from  Lake  Erie;  com- 
menced trout  works ;  introduced  a  few  land-locked  salmon ; 
erected  rustic  gateways  and  summer-houses;  built  roads, 
laid  out  avenues,  paths,  and  a  croquet  lawn ;  created  a  fleet 
of  boats  and  canoes;  and  imported  a  kennel  of  dogs  of  best 
stock  and  approved  varieties.  Altogether,  it  is  a  vast  enter- 
prise for  this  continent,  and  its  present  condition  reflects 
great  credit  upon  the  sagacity  of  Fayette  S.  Giles,  Esq.,  its 
President,  in  perceiving  that  the  people  of  America  were  pre- 
pared to  foster  such  a  scheme,  as  well  as  upon  his  energy  and 


BLOOMING    GEOVE  PAKK.  229 

perseverance  in  carrying  it  to  a  successful  consummation.  It 
has  received  unusually  favorable  endorsement  from  the  news- 
paper press,  and  seems  to  meet  with  the  greater  favor  from  the 
fact  that  it  holds  out  inducements  to  ladies  to  participate  in 
the  sports  and  schemes  of  their  husbands.  Here  will  be  one 
asylum,  at  least,  where  the  enervated  belles  o:^New  York  can 
spend  a  season,  and  in  the  sports  of  the  field  regain  ten  years 
of  youth  as  capital  for  future  campaigns  at  Saratoga  or  Long 
Branch.  There  is  no  reason  why  a  lady  should  not  learn  to 
cast  a  fly  and  ensnare  the  wily  trout  as  skillfully  as  the  most 
expert  male  angler,  and  with  a  light  rifle  they  would  soon 
learn  to  enjoy  a  wait  upon  a  run-way  for  a  final  crack  at  the 
spotted  deer.  No  more  sensible,  healthful,  or  rational  enjoy- 
ment could  be  proposed  than  a  month's  out-door  sport  in  a 
locality  so  well  stocked  with  game,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
such  a  pastime  may  find  more  favor  in  the  future  with  people 
who  usually  spend  their  summer  vacation  idly  making  a 
tour  of  the  watering-places  and  fashionable  resorts,  and  from 
y/hich  they  generally  return  to  town  more  weary  and  languid 
than  at  the  outset. 

The  "  Blooming  Grove  Park "  is  entitled  to  a  prominent 
place  among  the  sporting  resorts  of  America. 


NATURAL     AND     ARTIFICIAL 
PROPAGATION. 


JNGLAND  and  tHe  older  countries  of  Europe  long  ago 
found  it  necessary  to  adopt  means  to  preserve  their 
wild  game  and  fish  from  total  extinction.  The 
)\,  rapid  increase  of  population  and  the  spread  of  set- 
tlements not  only  depopulated  the  forests  and 
streams,  but  denuded  the  land  of  its  timber,  so  that  eventu- 
ally plans  for  restocking  and  reproduction  became  objects  of 
most  serious  consideration  and  earnest  practical  application 
on  the  part  of  scientific  and  thoughtful  men.  Judicious 
legislation,  combined  with  the  active  cooperation  of  landed 
proprietors  and  sportsmen,  have  secured  results  exceeding 
the  anticipations  of  the  most  sanguine,  results  remarkable 
for  the  ease  with  which  they  were  accomplished,  and  re- 
munerative in  every  instance.  At  present  nearly  every  king- 
dom, state,  and  province  has  its  game.  Zoological  gardens, 
acclimating  societies,  public  and  private  parks,  fish  works, 
and  all  manner  of  associ'ations  for  breeding  and  preserving 
game  and  fish,  are  found  all  over  the  Continent.  Indeed,  the 
whole  subject  has  attained  so  great  importance  that  statistics 
bearing  thereupon  are  eagerly  sought  and  collected  by  the 
British  Foreign  Office,  through  its  legations,  wherever  they 
exist.  Considered  in  its  length  and  breadth,  it  involves  the 
prosperity  of  communities  to  a  degree  that  is  not  dreamed  of 


L 


NATUEAL  AND   AETIFICIAL   PROPAGATIOK.  231 

now,  but  will  be  recognized  and  appreciated  in  years  to  come. 
It  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  mankind  as  the  early 
attempts  to  domesticate  and  breed  cattle  and  sheep;  and 
just  as,  at  the  present  day,  no  branch  of  industry  is  deemed 
more  praiseworthy  than  the  improving  the  breed  of  our 
domestic  animals  and  aiding  their  increase,  so  eventually  will 
be  the  preserving  and  propagating  of  game  animals,  birds, 
and  fish.  If  we  would  live,  we  must  produce  the  food  that 
nourishes  and  sustains  life. 

Our  own  country,  though  comparatively  new,  and  origi- 
nally teeming  with  fish,  has  already  suffered  so  much  from 
reckless  and  indiscriminate  slaughter,  that  measures,  equally 
stringent  with  those  of  Europe,  have  become  necessary  to 
prevent  their  total  extinction  here.  We  have  seen  how 
nearly  the  noble  salmon  came  to  annihilation  in  all  the 
rivers  of  our  Eastern  and  Middle  States.  We  have  heard  the 
oft-told  stojy  of  his  early  history.  We  know  that  there  are 
men  now  living  who  dipped  salmon  with  nets  below  the 
Saranac  dam  at  Plattsburg;  we  know  that  they  were  abun- 
dant in  the  Hudson,  and  that  the  Connecticut  teemed  with 
them ;  that  nearly  every  river  in  Maine  yielded  rich  annual 
tribute  to  the  fishermen ;  that  the  Merrimac  was  a  famous 
river ;  that  they  ascended  all  the  rivers  that  empty  into  Lake 
Ontario  and  the  St.  Lawrence;  and  that  they  were  even 
taken  in  the  Delaware.  We  have  read  of  their  wanton 
slaughter,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  and  noted  the  rapid 
process  of  their  exclusion  from  these  rivers,  one  after  another, 
by  the  construction  of  dams  that  barred  their  ascent  to  their 
spawning  grounds.  And  the  beautiful  trout — they,  too,  dis- 
appeared. Once  they  inhabited  every  brook  and  stream; 
but  tan-bark,  saw-dust,  and  pot-hunters  utterly  wiped  them 
out  from  most  of  their  old  haunts.  Had  it  not  been  for  the 
establishment  of  the  Fish  Commissions  and  their  timely 
interpositions  some  six  years  ago,  nothing  would  have  long 
remained  of  these  delicious  fish  but  the  record  of  their  former 
abundance.    Even  at  the  inception  of  the  great  work  of 


232  NATURAL   AND   ARTIFICIAL   PROPAGATION. 

propagation  and  replenishing  in  1866,  when  that  sturdy 
pioneer  of  pisciculture,  Seth  Green,  received  from  France  a 
gratuitous  consignment  of  yivified  ova  for  restocking  our 
streams,  our  Government  was  so  indifferent  or  unconscious 
of  our  extremity  that  they  actually  detained  them  in  the 
Custom  House  until  they  died ! 

Nevertheless,  pluck  and  perseverance,  combined  with  for- 
tuitous circumstances,  saved  our  streams  from  total  depopu- 
lation. The  subject  was  kept  in  agitation  by  gentlemen 
who  were  awake  to  the  value  of  these  material  interests. 
It  was  constantly  pressed  upon  the  attention  of  the  authori- 
ties of  several  States.  Then,  one  after  another,  the  States 
appointed  Fish  Commissioners,  delegated  powers  to  them, 
and  made  appropriations.  New  England  took  the  lead; 
New  York  and  New  Jersey  followed;  and  now  we  have 
Commissions,  not  only  in  those  States,  but  in  Pennsylvania, 
Virginia,  Alabama,  and  California.  Meanwhile,  private  indi- 
viduals, impatient  of  delays,  had  established  Fish  Farms : 
Seth  Green,  at  Mumford,  N.  Y. ;  Stephen  H.  Ainsworth,  in- 
ventor of  Ainsworth's  Spawning  Sluice  at  West  Bloomfield, 
N.  Y. ;  and  Dr.  J.  H.  Slack,  at  Bloomsbury,  taking  the  lead. 
Canada  also  took  hold  of  the  matter  in  sober  earnest,  and 
appointed  a  Fishery  Commission  which  has  proved  wonder- 
fully efficient  in  working  out  the  most  gratifying  and  im- 
portant results.  While  our  States  were  dallying,  or  impeded 
in  obtaining  means  of  replenishing  our  rivers,  which  they 
did  not  possess  within  themselves,  Canada,  with  superior 
natural  facilities,  made  rapid  progress  in  the  work  of  recuper- 
ation. Though  most  of  her  rivers  were  sadly  impoverished, 
some  still  teemed  with  salmon,  and  readily  supplied  the  seed 
which  has  multiplied  into  rich  and  abundant  harvests.  All 
were  at  once  placed  under  Government  protection  and  con- 
trol. Some  were  set  apart  for  natural  propagation,  and 
jealously  guarded  by  competent  overseers  and  wardens. 
Fish-ways  were  ordered  to  be  built  over  or  around  all  dams 
which  obstructed  the  ascent  of  the  fish  to  their  spawning- 


NATURAL   AND   ARTIFICIAL  PROPAGATION.  233 

beds.  Hatch-houses  and  fish-farms  were  estabhshed  at  New- 
castle, Ontario,  at  the  Miramichi  Eiver,  and  at  other  places. 
The  most  remarkable  success  attended  the  first-named  from 
the  outset.  It  was  located  on  Wilmot's  Creek,  under  the 
supervision  of  S.  Wilmot,  Esq.  In  the  fall  of  1866,  he  com- 
menced with  half  a  dozen  salmon,  the  only  remnant  of  those 
that  escaped  extermination  in  the  creek.  From  this  slen- 
der stock  he  obtained  about  1,500  ova,  which  he  placed  in 
his  hatching-house.  The  fry  obtained  were  nurtured  a 
proper  time,  and  placed  in  the  stream.  He  repeated  an- 
nually the  operation  of  securing  all  the  ova  he  could  get 
from  returning  salmon.  In  1870  the  number  had  increased, 
so  that  300  salmon  and  grilse  could  be  seen  at  one  view  in 
his  reception-house.  It  was  filled  literally  to  overflowing. 
Over  and  above  the  fish  in  the  building,  it  was  believed  by 
many  that  there  was  a  still  greater  number  in  the  stream 
below.  In  1870,  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  young  fry 
were  let  loose  from  this  establishment.  Upwards  of  three 
hundred  thousand  ova  were  hatched  in  the  winter  of  1871. 
Mr.  Wilmot  claims  these  salmon  to  be  the  "  giants  of  their 
race,"  and  he  says  ninety -six  salmon  were  in  the  reception- 
house  at  one  time,  and  seventy-nine  of  them  measured  be- 
tween thirty-five  and  forty  inches  in  length.  In  good  con- 
dition they  would  have  weighed  between  thirty  and  forty 
pounds  each. 

The  Canadian  Oovemment  extended  its  labors  from  time 
to  time,  as  the  system  developed.  Additional  breeding  ap- 
paratus was  placed  at  Trout  Creek,  Moisie  Eiver,  on  the 
Lower  St.  Lawrence.  Seven  different  salmon-farms  were 
located  at  rivers  of  Lake  Ontario  in  1870,  and  salmon  have 
been  netted  in  that  lake  near  Wilmot's  Creek  in  considerable 
numbers  the  past  year  (1872).  There  are  also  four  trout 
establishments  on  Lake  Ontario.  Several  rivers  in  New 
Brunswick  have  been  set  apart  for  natural  and  artificial 
propagation,  and  will  soon  teem  with  salmon  as  of  yore. 
The  valuable  waters  of  the  Schoodics  have  been  opened 


234  NATURAL  AI^D   ARTIFICIAL  PROPAGATION. 

to  the  passage  of  salmon  by  the  erection  of  fish-ways.  Over 
three  hundred  dams  have  been  provided  with  fish-passes 
throughout  the  New  Dominion.  There  was,  of  course,  much 
opposition  at  first  from  mill-owners  and  fishermen  at  the 
requirements  and  penalties  of  the  new  regime;  but  Cana- 
dians are  naturally  tractable  and  law-abiding,  and  they  not 
only  soon  desisted  from  all  interference,  but,  perceiving  the 
beneficial  effects  of  protection,  became  ardent  co-operators 
with  the  Fishery  officers.  The  results  have  justified  the 
most  sanguine  expectations.  All  through  Canada,  through- 
out the  Provinces  of  Ontario,  Quebec,  New  Brunswick,  and 
No^va  Scotia,  which  includes  Cape  Breton,  the  most  gratify- 
ing increase  in  the  numbers  of  trout  and  salmon  is  reported 
by  the  district  overseers.  They  have  multiplied  vastly  in 
impoverished  streams,  and  reappeared  in  rivers  from  which 
they  had  been  for  many  years  excluded. 

In  the  United  States  our  piscicultural  experiments  have 
been  attended  with  gratifying  results,  though  the  process  of 
restoration  has  been  much  retarded  by  various  causes,  one 
of  which  was  the  very  high  price  charged  by  the  Canadians 
for  their  ova  and  young  fry,  upon  which  we  had  almost 
wholly  to  depend  for  restocking  our  rivers.  The  cost  of  eggs 
from  the  hatch-house  at  Newcastle  was  forty  dollars  per 
thousand  in  gold,  making  the  spawn  of  a  single  fish  cost 
several  hundred  dollars!  After  having  submitted  to  this 
exaction  for  several  years,  the  energetic  Fish  Commissioner 
of  Maine,  C.  G-.  Atkins,  Esq.,  determined  to  endeavor  to 
raise  spawn  of  his  own ;  and  having  induced  the  States  of 
Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  to  bear  equal  shares  of  the 
expense,  commenced  a  series  of  experiments  in  ponds  and 
streams  near  Bucksport,  Maine.  Live  salmon-breeders  were 
bought  and  placed  in  these  waters,  where  they  were  care- 
fully nurtured.  After  a  series  of  partial  failures  from  deaths 
caused  by  ignorant  treatment,  and  losses  from  freshets,  they 
succeeded  in  1870  in  obtaining  72,000  eggs.  These  were 
divided  among  the  three  States  pecuniarily  interested,  and 


NATURAL   AND   ARTIFICIAL   PROPAGATION.  235 

of  them  ninety-six  per  cent  hatched.  The  cost  of  production 
was  only  $18.09  per  thousand,  and  it  is  beUeved  they  can  be 
furnished  hereafter  at  $8.00. 

With  a  fair  start  once  gained,  progress  is  rapid.  In  Ver- 
mont, between  30,000  and  40,000  salmon-eggs  have  been  put 
into  West  River,  the  Winooski,  and  Williams  River.  In  New 
Hampshire,  salmon-ova  were  placed  in  the  Merrimac  by  Dr. 
Fletcher  as  long  ago  as  1867,  and  should  be  heard  from  soon, 
if  alive.  Land-locked  salmon  have  been  put  into  Newfound 
Lake.  In  Maine,  28,000  salmon-spawn  have  been  put  into 
the  Androscoggin  River,  and  fish- ways  have  been  opened  over 
the  dams  at  the  Grand  Lakes  so  that  salmon  can  now  ascend. 
The  first  effort  to  stock  the  Connecticut  Rif  er  with  salmon 
was  made  in  1868,  and  large  quantities  of  spawn  have  been 
since  put  into  it;  also  into  the  Pequonnock,  Housatonic, 
Shetauket,  and  Farmington  Rivers,  and  tributaries  of  the 
Quinnebaug.  Land-locked  salmon  have  been  placed  in  nine 
ponds  or  rivers  of  seven  counties  of  Connecticut.  Shad 
have  multiplied  rapidly  in  the  Connecticut  under  protection 
and  cultivation.  The  catch  of  1871  was  three  times  as  large 
as  that  of  the  previous  year.  In  New  York,  a  State  hatch- 
house  has  been  established  at  Rochester,  whose  operations 
have  been  wholly  successful.  Several  thousands  of  spawn 
have  been  disposed  of  to  applicants.  Salmon  have  been 
placed  in  the  Hudson,  Genesee,  and  Delaware  Rivers,  and 
trout  and  salmon-trout  in  many  waters  that  were  barren 
before.  A  hatch-house  has  also  been  located  at  Central 
Park,  New  York  city.  In  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania, 
salmon-fry  have  been  placed  in  the  Delaware  River,  and 
salmon-trout  fry  in  the  Susquehanna.  Cahfomia  is  not  slack 
in  her  efforts  to  preserve  the  fish  of  her  valuable  rivers  from 
extinction.  She  has  commenced  her  work  in  season,  and  by 
compelling  thus  opportunely  the  erection  of  fish-ways,  where- 
ever  needed,  will  keep  up  her  stock  of  fish  to  its  natural 
quota.  Some  10,000  Eastern  trout  have  been  acclimated  in 
the  waters  of  California,  and  are  thriving.    The  trout  species 


236  NATURAL   AKD   ARTIFICIAL   PROPAGATIOIT. 

of  that  state  are  quite  different  from  those  of  the  Eastern 
States.  Altogether,  much  has  been  accomphshed  within  the 
past  two  years,  though  not  without  much  remonstrance  and 
serious  opposition.  In  some  instances,  a  vigorous  war  has 
been  waged  against  the  dam-constructors  and  other  depreda- 
tors. They  have  been  expecially  incensed  against  the  Indians 
and  a  Kev.  Mr.  Balcome,  the  Missionary  Baptist  Agent,  on 
account  of  their  having  built  a  dam  across  the  Truckee  Eiver, 
between  Wadsworth  and  Pyramid  Lakes,  which  prevented 
the  trout  from  ascending  the  river.  Last  April  they  un(iler- 
took  to  remove  the  obstruction.  They  raised  $100  by  sub- 
scription, which  they  gave  to  a  man  to  go  down  and  blow  up 
the  dam  with  giant  powder.  The  charge  of  powder  was 
sunk  on  the  upper  side  of  the  dam,  and  when  the  explosion 
took  place  a  column  of  mud  and  water  was  thrown  up  to  the 
height  of  nearly  a  hundred  feet.  Long  pine  trees  that  had 
floated  down  the  river  and  lodged  against  the  dam,  were 
lifted  several  feet  into  the  air  and  rained  down  everywhere. 
The  man  who  fired  the  charge  had  screened  himself  behind 
a  big  cotton-wood  tree,  and  down  among  the  limbs  of  this 
tree  came  crashing  a  rock  of  fifty-pounds  weight,  causing 
him  to  do  some  lively  dodging.  The  dam  was  totally  de- 
stroyed, and  doubtless  great  numbers  of  fish,  but  the  man 
who  bossed  the  "blow-up"  did  not  stop  to  look  for  fish. 
He  traveled  from  that  vicinity  at  a  lively  pace,  as  he  ex- 
pected the  Indians  to  take  his  trail  as  soon  as  they  discov- 
ered what  he  had  done.  The  blowing  up  of  the  dam  gave 
free  passage  up  the  river  to  the  trout.  The  residents  in  the 
vicinity  declare  they  will  keep  the  dam  open  if  it  takes  fifty 
men  to  do  it. 

Altogether,  the  work  of  propagation  and  restoration 
throughout  the  entire  country  during  the  last  three  years, 
especially  in  New  England,  has  been  very  considerable ;  still 
it  is  hardly  time  to  look  for  astounding  results.  It  is  one 
thing  to  stock  a  stream  from  which  salmon  have  been  ex- 
cluded for  many  years,  and  quite  another  to  merely  remove 


NATUBAL   AKD   ARTIFICIAL   PROPAGATION.  237 

obstructions  which  bar  the  passage  of  thousands  eager  and 
waiting  to  ascend,  as  in  Canada.  It  will  be  many  years 
before  we  can  expect  to  reach  the  enviable  position  eyen  now 
enjoyed  by  our  neighbors. 

Private  enterprise  has  accomplished  full  as  much,  perhaps, 
as  our  State  authorities.  Besides  the  fish-farms  of  Green, 
Ainsworth,  and  Slack,  which  are  operated  for  pecuniary 
profit,  we  have  those  of  Eev.  William  Clift  in  Connecticut; 
of  Livingston  Stone,  at  Charlestown,  New  Hampshire ;  of 
W.  H.  Furman,  at  Maspeth,  L.  I. ;  a  hatch-house  at  Farm 
Eiver,  North  Branford,  Ct. ;  works  at  Little  Kiver,  Middle- 
town,  Ct.,  and  near  Saratoga,  New  York;  Seiler  and 
McConkey's  preserve  at  Harrisburg,  Pa. ;  and  Christie's, 
near  the  same  locality.  There  are  a  large 'number  of  strictly 
private  trout  preserves  and  farms  of  the  most  expensive 
character  scattered  over  the  country,  like  Massapiqua  and 
Maitlands,  Long  Island,  and  the  extensive  establishment  of 
John  Magee,  Esq.,  at  Watkins,  in  Central  New  York.  The 
public  in  general  have  beconie  interested  in  the  work,  and 
regard  with  no  ordinary  concern  its  successful  progress ;  albeit 
the  opposition  of  fishermen  and  manufacturers  has  been  more 
bitter  and  persistent  here  than  in  Canada.  Wealthy  and 
intelligent  corporations,  like  the  mill-owners  on  the  Merri- 
mac,  the  Ilolyoke  Water-Power  Company  on  the  Connecti- 
cut, and  the  Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal  Company,  have 
resisted  by  every  device  the  legal  requirement  to  build  fish- 
ways  over  their  dams.  At  last  the  Lawrence  dam  has  been 
made  passable,  and  salmon  ascend  the  Merrimac,  but  the 
owners  of  the  other  two  still  hold  out  against  the  repeated 
decisions  of  the  courts  against  them.  When  these  bars  are 
removed,  our  fish-food  will  increase  and  cheapen  in  the  mar- 
kets. It  is  not  the  wanton  destruction  of  fish-life  by  im- 
proper means  in  season  and  out  of  season  that  exterminates, 
but  the  dams  that  prevent  the  natural  increase  by  excluding 
the  breeders  from  their  spawning-grounds  at  the  head-waters 
of  riv6rs.    The  fecundity  of  salmon,  shad,  and  trout  is  mar- 


238  NATURAL   AKD   AETIFICIAL   PROPAGATION. 

velous.  The  former  produces  from  30,000  to  50,000  eggs ; 
the  shad  from  50,000  to  100,000 ;  and  the  trout  from  1,000 
to  8,000 ;  according  to  their  ages.  It  is  apparent  that  by 
judicious,  skillful,  and  intelligent  culture  the  increase  must 
be  enormous  and  the  pecuniary  profits  correspondingly  large, 
allowing  liberally  for  casualties.  It  is  said  that  an  acre  of 
good  water  can  be  made  to  produce  twice  as  much  food  as 
an  acre  of  good  land.  The  calculation  has  been  made  upon 
actual  data,  that  a  trout  farm  whose  cost  and  expenses  will 
reach  an  aggregate  of  $47,000  in  four  years,  will  yield  a  net 
profit  at  the  end  of  that  period  of  $421,000 !  These  figures 
are  given,  not  as  an  inducement  for  everybody  to  embark  in 
fish-culture,  but  to  show  what  proportionate  results  may  be 
expected  from  our  protected  rivers  and  streams  when  they 
shall  have  become  fully  replenished. 

In  the  establishment  of  Andrew  Gierke,  Esq.,  New  York, 
is  a  hatching  apparatus  in  full  operation,  where  one  can 
watch  the  process  through  all  its  various  stages.  Last  Jan- 
uary the  small-fry  began  to  burst  their  envelopes  and  emerge 
into  fish-life.  Among  the  rest  was  a  double  fish,  or  rather 
two  perfect  fishes  united  just  below  the  dorsal  fin.  *Prom 
the  junction,  tailward,  there  was  a  single  body,  like  that  of 
any  ordinary  fish,  with  its  second  dorsal,  anal,  and  caudal  fins. 
With  a  microscope  it  was  quite  easy  to  trace  the  anatomical 
structure  through  the  transparent  flesh.  There  were  two  sep- 
arate and  perfectly  distinct  systems,. with  a  vent  common  to 
both.  The  nondescript  seemed  in  perfect  health  and  remark- 
ably active.  At  last  accounts  it  was  alive  and  doing  well. 
There  are  many  monstrosities  in  the  piscatory  kingdom,  and 
those  who  roam  will  often  find  them  out ;  but  seldom  does 
a  like  phenomenon  come  under  the  notice  of  the  "  Fishing 
Tourist" 

And  now,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  wilderness  ramblings, 
with  some  fatigue  of  the  protracted  journey  and  an  appetite 
sharpened  by  its  vicissitudes,  he  would  fain  sit  down  at  even- 
tide and  rest ; 


NATURAL   AKD   AKTIFICIAL  PROPAGATIOK.  239 

"  Day  is  done  brown  and  set  away  to  cool ; 
And  evening  like  a  salad  fresh  and  moist. 
And  peppered  with  her  muster'd  stars,  comes  on  ; — 
The  moon,  like  a  large  cheese,  cut  just  in  half, 
Hangs  o'er  the  landscape  most  invitingly; — 
The  milky  way  reveals  her  silver  stream 
'Mid  the  blanc-mange-like  clouds  that  fleck  the  sky ; — 
The  cattle  dun,  sleeping  in  pastures  brown, 
Show  like  huge  doughnuts  in  the  deepening  gloom. 
How  like  a  silver  salver  shines  the  lake  ! 
While  mimic  clouds  upon  its  surface  move. 
Like  floating  islands  in  a  crystal  bowl. 
The  dews  come  down  to  wash  the  flower-cups  clean, 
And  night-winds  follow  them  to  wipe  them  dry. 

"  On  such  an  eve  as  this  'tis  sweet  to  sit. 
And  thus  commune  with  Nature,  as  she  brings 
Familiar  symbols  to  the  thoughtful  breast. 
And  spreads  her  feast  of  meditative  cheer. 
Day  with  its  broils  and  fiery  feuds  is  o'er. 
Its  jars  discordant  and  its  seething  strifes. 
And  all  its  boiling  passions  hushed  in  peace. 
Old  Earth,  hung  on  the  spit  before  the  sun. 
Turns  her  huge  sides  alternate  to  his  rays. 
Basted  by  rains  and  dews,  and  cooks  away. 
And  so  will  cook,  till  she  is  done — and  burnt." 


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